The Storm
by RonneeM
Summary: Set after Red Visions, new evil is heading for Cascade.
1. Prologue: Winds Rising

The Storm by Ronnee   
Prolog: A Gathering of Rising Winds 

Washington DC, 25 August 

The man glared at the information on his computer. After taking a long moment while he thought through the information, he frowned. With swift movements, his fingers typed in a new search guideline. The answer was the same. Weary eyes closed for a moment before he reached out and picked up the phone. 

"Sarah, I need you to get Rage on the line. Also, find out everything you can about Cascade. Looks like there's a situation brewing there." He spoke very softly to his secretary, praying his words would be wrong. Her response would tell him if he was right. If Rage could be contacted by Sarah, then he was overreacting. If Rage was moving to protect the unsuspecting players, it was worse than he had feared. 

Sir, he already called, trying to reach you about Cascade. I would have transferred you the call but it came while you were on the phone with Deputy Director and he couldn't wait. He requested that a Mr. Sandburg be added to the Rover lists as a contributing associate member, effective immediately..." Sarah's voice was tense, as if she was afraid of his response. "He said he was on his way to Peru to call in a debt." 

"Go ahead and add Mr. Sandburg to the list. Do you have all his contact information at Rainier? If not, I have it in my files. I also have a welcome letter already drafted for him." The tired man closed his eyes, listening to her words. As usual, she had everything under control. "Thank you, Sarah. That'll be everything. Oh, if anyone except Rage or K call, I'm out of the office." 

After replacing the handset, he sighed. He closed his eyes, hoping to open them and find that the whole situation was a bad dream, a nightmare. He opened his eyes again. The file in front of him was still there. The reproaching title still glaring at him: "A Study of the Unusual: The Importance of the Sentinel/Guide Bond in Ancient Millennial Sacrifices". 

The question of how in the world this information had been gathered, much less published, ran through his head. The threat was obvious. Someone wanted to practice the old sacrifices, and soon. The paper explained, in way too much detail, the entire event, from precedent to theory throughout the entire 21 day series of sacrifices. Only the names of the participants were obscured by titles and mystical wordings. Sentinel, Guide, Sanctificado. 

He only knew of one fully active sentinel/guide pair, and they were in South America. He had his suspicions about Sandburg; only a guide in search of his sentinel would be as tenacious in his search. Since only half of the pair had been identified, how was he going to warn them? Besides, they would have to get the information to Sandburg without upsetting the cop he worked with -- not an easy task. From what he remembered about the young man's file, the cop was part of some study on police culture. And for some reason, the local police had adopted the anthropologist as part of their team. All of their quiet probes had been rebuffed and Rovers did not want to upset the local police. 

Maybe Rage was right to fly down to Peru and try to reach Fortaleza. She had enough training in this stuff to at least see the whole picture. If she could help Sandburg find his sentinel and protect the pair from the threat, it would be worth her anger at being called home. The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. 

"Sir, it's an urgent call from Rover-6. Dr. Abraham Zelinski collapsed in customs and has been rushed to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. What do you want done with the collection?" Sarah's voice was calm as always, just a touch tired from the long day. 

"Have it held until further notice. What's the diagnosis?" 

"Unknown, sir. At this point, they believe he has contracted some kind of tropical disease. I will have the updates forwarded directly to our office." 

"Very well." He hung up and began composing a series of messages. Something was definitely up. First the paper. Then the foremost American researcher in the old sacrifices collapses. Now all he needed was for something to happen to either Fortaleza or Sandburg. They were the only ones that he could think of who knew anything about Sentinels. Time to pull in some more assets. He picked up the phone and began dialing. 

Peru, 27 August 

"Hildalga, your people come." Ayuane shook her shoulder, waking her. 

"It's too early," she murmured, slowly coming awake. 

"I recognized the helicopter, Kyrie. It is the same one which came for your uncle last year." The sentinel's voice whispered in her ear as he pulled her up, onto her feet. "It is time for you to get up. We need to get back to the village now." 

"Is she awake yet?" Tito called from outside the hut. He stuck his head in the doorway, his white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. "Come on, sleepy head. Time to move, little girl." 

"I'm up. I'm up!" Kyrie shook her braid behind her as she grabbed her vest and backpack. She glared at the two laughing men. Sentinel and guide, they moved together as if part of the same person, packing what few things they had with them. Reflexively, she brought up her camera, catching them in motion. They turned and frowned. She laughed at them. "See, I'm up!" 

"Good, we can leave now." Tito grinned at her, as his sentinel grabbed his crossbow and ducked out of the hut. 

"What's wrong?" Kyrie watched him go before turning back to her friend, seeing his smile disappear. 

"You dreamed aloud last night. Your premonition was not a good one." Tito pulled her into an embrace. "It's time for you to go home and face civilization." 

"Oh, no, you don't." She broke away and darted outside. The young sentinel looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Neither of you can make me go." 

"Let's see what news the helicopter brought first." Ayuane was already tracking their path, finding the safest trail. His guide had quietly moved to stand behind him, one hand on the other's shoulder, grounding him. What he heard was not good news for them. "Soldiers saw the chopper. I hear them moving." 

"Then we run, eh?" She checked that her backpack was comfortable and followed the two men into the jungle. 

A Calim'a village, Peru 

Dr. James Canon was furious. He already told these interlopers everything he knew but they were still bothering him. He raised his voice. "Look, I have no idea how to reach the bloody bastard. All I know about K.A.J. is that he shows up and disappears whenever he wants to do so. If I want him, I tell the chief and the pictures show up the next morning." 

"So, you're saying that neither K.A.J. or Fortaleza stay with you at the village?" The big man asked quietly. 

"No. He lives off somewhere with a couple of the natives, the watchmen of the village. As for Fortaleza, he went to the far side of the valley with the shaman. Or maybe I have that backwards. All I know is they're not here." Canon was tired of being questioned. He'd been warned when he began this trip that K.A.J and Fortaleza. tended to stay with the natives but he hadn't quite expected his guide to completely disappear too. Everything he'd wanted documented was done, but it was done when he wasn't around. The fact that the elusive man had been known to steal his graduate students to take the pictures without asking first was enough to drive him up the wall. 

"Rage. Why are you here?" A woman's voice called from the edge of the jungle. Flanked by a pair of heavily armed natives, a young woman stepped forward. She was breathing heavily, having obviously run quite a distance to get back to the village. The strangers were rapidly welcomed by villagers, children racing to bring them water and food. The two men began speaking rapidly to both the tribe's chief and the shaman. 

It was the camera hanging around her neck that gave the professor her identity. Clad in worn khaki shorts and a T-shirt, she looked like she could be any of his students. The camera and the worn, heavily embroidered vest marked her as either the elusive photographer or the guide the new arrivals had been hunting. He started to speak but stopped to listen to the strangers. 

"It took you long enough to get here. We've been here almost an hour." The dark haired man answered her. He took her arm and led her out of earshot of the professor. 

"You gave me no warning. This had better be real good because the army is on its way, tracking your chopper." The woman slung her backpack to the ground and accepted a water gourd, thanking the child who offered it in his own language. 

"Your marker has been called in." 

"Now? Which one?" The very words made her stand straighter. Her pale eyes stared at the men near the helicopter. 

"Now. Zel's sick and someone dug up more Consegrado tablets. You are needed." The man pointed discretely towards the men waiting at the helicopter. 

"Who's the target? One of the Consegrado?" 

"We think that the target is a searching guide. He wouldn't know to run from the hunters. You know how persuasive they can be." 

Kyrie bowed her head, thinking furiously. She shifted her pack with her foot, cataloging its contents and knew she had to make some stops first. "I'll meet you in Lima in twelve days." 

"That's too long. You leave now, with us." 

"Can't. I have prior commitments. I have to speak to several people and make arrangements. Ten days." 

"Fine. And you set up your own arrangements to arrive in Cascade." 

"Cascade?" 

"Washington." 

"I am NOT going back to the US." The woman backed away from the tall man, hand diving towards her backpack. "You never said the Guide was in the US." 

"The debt's been called. You don't have much choice, kid." The big man grabbed her arm, holding her in place. He'd expected resistance, but not fear. Unfortunately, Fortaleza was the only one who could do this. "Besides, Zel needs you to help him while you're there. You don't want to ruin his tenure plans, do you?" 

"For him, I'll go. But I don't know anything about university life so I'll need help with that part." A.J. knew she was being manipulated but she had no choice, not if her marker was being pulled. She looked up at the man, the fear gone from her eyes. She shook her head as she assimilated the information she'd been given so far. "I'll need information about the person you think is the Guide -- background, anything you can get me. Also, why will he think I'm there? I assume I have to be close to him. Or is it a woman? Oh, who is behind the ceremonial rite? Why choose an unpaired guide? What about...." 

The man shook his head as she began to accept what he'd said. "Zel kept records of who tutored you, when and where and which subject. I'll see about getting the information validated and placed in your files. I'll take care of getting you a place and a position to cover for Zel, using those records. Do you have a laptop with you?" 

"Yes. It's in the village." 

"I'll leave you an uplink kit, some files and spare batteries. Contact me tomorrow." The man turned his back and walked to the helicopter. "Don't fail me." 

"No, sir." Fortaleza bowed her head as she answered in a whisper. "I won't fail either of you." 

"Kyrie?" Ayuane placed his hand on her shoulder. "We can help you disappear." 

"No, my friend. This is, as Incacha told me a long time ago, a test sent by the spirits. I must obey the call. Besides, I promised to deliver a package to Enqueri, if I ever went to Washington. Maybe, Cascade is close to him." 

"What is Enqueri's white name?" 

"I have no idea. Moi said he lived in Washington. How many people have lived in the jungles for that many days and then moved to the land of the Great Eye?" Kyrie Fortaleza laughed aloud, bitter mirth that grated on the sentinel's ears. Tears formed in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "Maybe he's the one I'm supposed to be searching for." 

"The village is ready to move. They will take the professor and his students with them." Tito came up to them. He gently tugged on Kyrie's braid. "It'll be all right." 

"Really? Then why do you refuse to tell me about my premonitions?" 

Sentinel looked at guide. Both shuttered their faces and shrugged. Then the guide smiled, "To keep your already swelled head from getting any bigger?" 

"I'm scared, Tito. Really scared. This feels like a bad wind is coming." The moment she said the words, the two men pulled her into a hug. Neither man said a word, they just held her, their faces reflecting their own fears, ones they refused to tell her about. 

Lima Airport, 08 August   


She stared out the window, watching the clouds pass. She'd never been afraid to fly before, but this journey was different. With a frown, Fortaleza stood and walked to the front of the plane. Several men watched as her slim figure passed by, but she ignored them. 

Once the lavatory door was closed, she leaned against it and sighed. With swift, economical moves, she stripped out of her worn shorts and T-shirt. The only things she didn't remove were the leather strip around her waist and the beaded jewelry she wore. He fingers flew as she unbraided her hair and spread out the waist length mass. 

For a moment she look at herself in the mirror, staring at the clear reflection. How long had it been since she'd had a moment to herself? She swiftly calculated and came to a grim conclusion. This was definitely the first time she had been on her own since her seventh birthday. There was no one waiting for her to join them, no one to whom she could pass her latest finds and theories, no one to hold her hand through the nightmares. This was definitely going to be hard. She washed quickly with the limited time and space she had. 

AJ sighed and pulled clothes out of her backpack. The jeans were looser than she remembered, but the softly worn T-shirt fit fine. She turned critically. The leather tie at her waist was hidden by the clothes; the beaded necklaces were safely tucked under her shirt collar; the markings on her arms were hidden by its sleeves. A smile spread slowly over her face. With clothes like these she could hide just about anything. She pulled on a cotton work shirt and tucked it in pensively. She stared at the vest, noticing that it needed mending again. She put it back down, knowing she'd have more than enough time on this flight, and laced her combat boots tightly onto her feet. All she had left to do was her hair. 

With swift, sure movements she pulled it back and separated it into lengths. They were rapidly braided and coiled into a smooth but intricate pattern. She stared into the mirror as she savagely shoved the hairpins into the growing crown. For a moment, she could hear Tia Elena instructing a much younger version of herself. 

_"Uno de estos dias, chica, vas a ser una mujer y en ese tiempo vas a necesitar ser una mujer elegante. Es mejor aprenderlo y aprenderlo bien hoy dia, cuando tienes el tiempo, que morir en el futuro porque no lo aprendiste." One of these days, child, you will be a woman and then you may need to an elegant woman. Now that you have the time to do so, it is better to learn and learn it well than to die in the future because you didn't.>>_

The soft voice had never been raised in all the time she'd known the old woman. But she'd never been able to deny the tiny old woman anything. Now, thanks to her, she could hide herself under this facade of calmness. Carefully pushing in the final pin, she surveyed the results. Where just moments before a young, waif-like urchin had stood, was a calm and slightly daunting young woman. A grim smile flashed across her face. "By the time I arrive in Cascade, no one who knew me before will recognize me." 

Panama City 

The stop in Panama was nearly her undoing. She had to switch airlines and airplanes. That meant racing across the airport to the other end of the terminal. She wasn't prepared for the sheer number of uniforms. Usually, she had little or no problem with uniforms, but now she was tired from the seven hours of flight time plus the days of land travel and preparation before arriving at the Lima airport. The fact that neither Zel nor KAJ was there to calm her frazzled nerves didn't help. 

For a moment she flashed back to the day her old life had ended, the memories of everyone else dying in the fire fight between good cops and bad cops. Flashing lights and uniforms, lots of uniforms, military and civilian, police, fire and rescue personnel, people screaming and bullhorns. She shook her head and was hit by the next flash, one from years later in a South American prison. Black uniforms and angry shouts were quickly followed by the feel of steel cuffs. She shook her head again, forcing the memories away and was back in the airport. 

"Are you all right, ma'am?" The gentle voice caught her attention. The man watched her, his face concerned. 

She looked up at him. He was American, military insignia proud upon his shoulder. A captain, if she remembered the insignia correctly. She nodded slowly. "It's been a long day." 

Her accent made him look her over again. "Do you need any help?" 

"No, thank you. I just need to catch my plane." 

"If you're sure." His reluctance to send her on her own was obvious but finally he nodded. 

A.J. forced her stride to be firm but not rapid as she walked away. She didn't want to be stopped and miss this connection. She still had to stop in the Yucatan and pick up the infernal package that had forced her to take this long and roundabout route to Cascade. As she walked through the airport, she felt the young captain's eyes watching her, wondering. 

Merida Airport, Yucatan Peninsula, 10 September 

AJ's nerves had finally settled by the time her plane arrived in the Yucatan. The flight had been long and filled with brief stops along the isthmus. Only the fact that she had to stop at so many places to pick up or reroute Zel's packages kept her going. He had planned on taking three weeks to stop at each location and do what she was doing in 72 hours. She was going to have to remember never to let herself get into this tight a sequence again. 

The sight of both Rage and Ese waiting at the gate brought back the tension. They were supposed to meet her in Dallas later today. Something had to have gone very wrong for the two of them to be meeting her here. The premonition that had been teasing the back of her mind flared strongly. At least the company man wasn't with them. The thought of facing the cold eyed CIA man again made her shudder. 

"Fortaleza." The taller of the two acknowledged her arrival. 

"Rage." She nodded, looking around curiously. She didn't notice any of Ese's bodyguards in the area. 

"AJ" Hazel eyes met hers, lines crinkling as he smiled down on her. "Your trip's being delayed." 

"What happened?" She glanced at the men, realizing how odd she must look. Both of her companions wore tailored suits. Her worn jeans and vest made her seem grubby in comparison. Rage's wicked smile told her he enjoyed making her uncomfortable. She dragged her attention back to what was being said. 

"...entirely certain. The director of the university wants someone to meet you before he will authorize the collection to be packed, much less sent out of the country." Ese took her camera bag and handed it to Rage as he explained. "Thanks to your flight's delays, you've missed him. The head of antiquities won't be able to meet with you until noon." 

"Have you arranged couriers to escort the collection?" AJ allowed him to tuck her arm in the crook of his elbow. She was too busy rearranging the schedules and arrangements to argue with him. "If the knives aren't ready to go, I really can't wait for them." 

"We have to find someone qualified to escort them through customs. The main knife can only go in your custody." Rage spoke quietly, his voice calm and cool, unperturbed by the delays. "I'll give you the information for the others as soon as I have it." 

AJ nodded. With all of the warning signs, they had to have protection for the cursed thing. The final days of the sacrifices couldn't be held without the whole set, but that one knife, the king knife, was the one that scared her the most. She wished vaguely that she could drop them into a sacrificial cistern. That would stop the sacrifices, for a while, anyway. With a mental shrug, she turned back to the men walking her through the airport. "So, where are we heading?" 

"A hotel. We have a lot of work to do between now and your appointment this afternoon." Rage led them through a seldom-used corridor. At the end of the hallway, a guard waved them through, barely taking the time to stamp AJ's passport. "I have the files, and we need to go over them." 

"What's the name?" 

"Blair Sandburg." 

"I know that name... isn't he the one who wrote that paper on the Yanamamo -- the one I forwarded to you?" 

"Yes, he is. He's also a new member of Rovers Inc.'s research teams. We wanted an easy way to keep track of him and he fit the profile very well." 

"That was fast." AJ looked at the two men, allowing them to guide her into a limousine. They smiled wolfishly. "I take it that there is more than meets the eye here. He's the one you think is a guide?" 

Both men nodded. Rage opened a briefcase and handed her a file. AJ skimmed it, glancing at the details until she got to the last few pages. Then she froze and paged back before going forward again, far more slowly. Closing the file, she looked up, and asked: "There was a rogue and she attacked him?" 

"The facts speak for themselves." Ese was noncommittal, his face held carefully neutral. "We didn't know about her until the manhunt was already underway. By then it was too late for us to interfere; too many people had been affected." 

"Hmm." AJ mused to herself, looking at the pages again. Finally she handed it back. "If, and only if, he is a guide, he's a strong one to be able to turn away a rogue sentinel. How did he survive?" 

"We don't know. According to the reports, he died." A shark-like smile crossed Ese's face as the big man thumbed through the file. "If it weren't for the current situation, I would be asking if you'd volunteer to investigate. This way I get to kill two birds with one stone." 

"I never volunteer, Ese." AJ's voice was cold. "I won't snoop into his life. You know better than that." 

The man smiled grimly at her. "And what do you call all your assistance in the past? You always volunteer if it's important. As for the snooping, I want to know if he's a guide." 

AJ shook her head. This wasn't the time or the place for this argument. She turned back to the papers he held. She flipped open the cover and read the first page. Toward the bottom she saw a notation and winced. After a moment she sighed. "He works with the police department? Great." 

"You won't have to work with the local police." Rage went silent at her grim headshake. 

Neither man spoke for the time it took for her to reread the file. "This is too incomplete. I'll need more information on his background. I need everything you can get your hands on. I also need files on his roommate, his co-workers, and, if possible, whichever policeman he's studying." 

"That'll take at least a few days, especially as we don't want to attract anyone's attention. Ellison is too high profile for us to be too obvious about it." Rage leaned forward and glanced at the file. He flipped a page, noting the names there. "We already started a search on Ellison. I'll add the others tonight. You'll have the files a few days after you get to Cascade. You think he's found a sentinel?" 

AJ looked at the two men. Both were watching her closely, trying to measure the veracity of her words. Even if Ellison turned out to be a sentinel, she wasn't going tell them. She trusted them, to a point . . . and that point did not include sentinels or guides. "Too early to tell. If he has, he'll be hiding the identity. All leads will be tangents. That means a lot of coverage to protect them from the ceremonies. If he doesn't have a sentinel, he'll be safe enough that I won't have any trouble keeping him out of it all." 

"I don't want you sticking you neck out any more than necessary, kid." Ese's words were calm but the tone behind them was icy, hard with worry. "Your job is to keep an eye on Sandburg and set Zel's exhibit." 

"What about the ceremonial stones?" 

"That's our end of it. We'll find out where they are, where they came from, and who found them. " Rage's quiet words made her look up. "I have a list of contacts for you in the Cascade area." 

A.J. looked at the list and frowned. "Company list?" 

"It's their tab." 

"No. I won't touch their contacts. If we had any private ones of our own, that would be one thing." She closed the file again. "I don't like working with them, they have too many hidden agendas." 

"It's their dime, kiddo." Rage ignored the quick glare she threw at him. "They called us before we could establish contact with you. We can't ignore them, not without serious repercussions. They already knew that another set of stones had been found. We can't let them be used. Not by cultists and not by a government agency. Do you understand me?" 

"I know my duty. I won't let you down." AJ closed her eyes, missing the look the two men exchanged. She was tired. Sleeping on an airplane wasn't something she could do. Too much noise, too many people, too little space. She didn't reopen her eyes until she felt the limousine stop. She glared at the hotel facade, not wanting to move. Finally she gave up and growled softly, "Coffee. I need coffee. Lots of coffee." 

"It's already waiting for you." Ese nudged her into movement, watching her slow careful movements. For a brief moment, AJ looked fragile. Then she shook herself and stepped lightly out of the car. The moment her foot hit the pavement, her shoulders squared and her movements firmed. Even her face changed, becoming more alert and wary. He shrugged at her raised eyebrow, "We have a lot of work to do and not much time." 

TWA Flight 119, 11 September. 

AJ stretched in her seat, not quite sprawling. Her eyes ached. Ever since Panama she'd been on her guard. Mexico had only made it worse. Trying to watch for trouble, keep from having any more flashbacks, and trying to rest at the same time didn't work for her. She fingered her vest. She'd fixed the tear and added more embroidery to the newest patches hours ago. A smile crossed her face as she traced an unfinished figure. She had to get back to the Calim'a so she could finish the figure. She hadn't learned the rest of it yet. 

With a sigh, she turned on the laptop computer. Who could figure out a hand held computer like this? It was just such a neat toy, so much faster and lighter than the one she'd gotten the last time she'd been in Manaus. Every time she stopped in civilization there were so many new things to find and learn about. She even had games on this one. What was Tetris anyway? Rage told her she'd like it, but she didn't have time for games. She still had more to read about this man she was meeting. 

She reread the notes on Blair Sandburg's research. Not bad for someone raised in the States. But with his background, she wasn't too surprised. His master's thesis had been on sentinels. Again the thought went through her mind that he could help her find the one she needed. She had promised the Chopec to deliver the Shaman's bag if she ever went to Washington, so now she had to find the American sentinel and deliver it. If Sandburg really was a guide in search of his sentinel, maybe he'd know how to find Enqueri or could at least give her a clue to where he would have gone. Washington was a big state and she didn't have the time to search the whole thing. 

The overhead speaker crackled. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are now approaching Cascade, Washington. We will be landing in twenty minutes. Please turn off all electronic equipment at this time and return your seats to the upright position while we land." 

AJ shut down the file and turned off the computer. Almost show time. Her hands skimmed her hair, tucking in the loose strands and checking the security of the hairpins. Now she had the role of her life. She had to live in the USA, on a college campus, take care of Zel's exhibit and stop the sacrifices. Stopping the sacrifices would be no problem, either she stopped them cold or she substituted for the victims and destroyed the tablets before her own sacrifice. That she had been prepared for, and raised for, and taught to do. Living in the US, with normal kids and dealing with the U and the exhibit, that was going to take a lot of acting to pull off successfully. She muttered a quick prayer in Quechua, earning her seatmate's shocked stare.   


Storm Page   
Storm Chapter 1   
Fanfic Page   



	2. New Arrivals & Barometer Adjustments

The Storm by Ronnee   
Chapter 1: New Arrivals and Weather Adjustments   


* * *

Rainier University, 27 August. 

Blair stared at the E-mail in shock. To confirm his first impression, he reread it. The contents remained the same. He almost couldn't believe his eyes. If this was a joke, it was not funny. He read the words aloud: From: Rovers INC.   
To: Blair Sandburg @ Ranier University Cascade Washington.   
Professor Stoddard recommended you to our organization as a Research Assistant. After reviewing your credentials, Rovers INC. would like to offer you an associate membership. As an associate member, you would have unlimited access to our research library, member chat sessions and research engines. Due to your publishing history, I would also like to offer you a research grant. You would be required only to assist members who are without your specialized knowledge of hypersensitive perception. Attached you will find a prospective of Rovers INC. as well as a brief overview of the nature of your grant. If you have any questions, please contact our office. If you would like to accept the associate membership and the grant, please contact us via E-mail and we will send the paperwork to you via courier.   
S Marshall Johnson. Blair grinned to himself as he crossed his fingers. He'd heard rumors about Rovers Inc. but had dismissed them as just that, rumors. Now he wondered just how much of those rumors had been true. He could almost believe the idea of an organization dedicated to ESP, but the fact that they included hyper senses -- senses that belonged to sentinels -- in their research surprised him. 

He read the grant prospectus and froze. The amount couldn't be correct. He checked it again and knew he was either dreaming or had just won a karmic lottery. The amount was enough for him to actually be able to make ends meet and then some. Oh, please, let this be real, he thought dazedly. 

He opened the next attachment half expecting to find out that this whole thing had been a joke. The cover sheet from a well-known and exclusive firm on the east coast, banishing his fear. Then he started reading the prospective and his loud whoop of exaltation startled the students walking past his office. Blair Sandburg had his acceptance posted within minutes. 

* * *

Jim looked up as his partner danced into the loft. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he threw his backpack onto the couch, chuckling gleefully as he read the notes in his hand. As his body spun around, his face alight with joy, his hair flew into his face, blinding him. Reflexively, Jim reached out and caught him with gentle hands before they collided. 

"Easy, Chief." Jim's voice was amused. "I take it this is good news?" 

"The best!" Blue eyes met blue eyes as Blair shook his hair out of his face. He leaned into Jim's hands, relishing their strength and warmth. "Rovers Inc. sent me some fantastic information on extra-sensitive perceptions. It's great stuff." 

"Who's Rovers?" 

"A research group I met on the Internet." Blair's eyes were firmly on his notes, not noticing the growing tension in Jim. "They mention 'hypersensitive' or 'extremely sensitive' perceptions instead of sentinel abilities. I don't know if they even about sentinels, but then again there's this obscure comment over -- " 

"Whoa! They know about sentinels?" Jim's face had hardened as he interrupted his young friend. "Do they know about me?" 

Blair's face softened as he turned his full attention to Jim's face. He dropped his notes, ignoring them as they scattered across the living room. His hands came up and grabbed Jim's shoulders. "No, they don't know about you. You know I've never told anyone about your senses. My advisor knows I found a sentinel, but that's because of my dissertation subject. He doesn't know that I'm studying you." 

Jim leaned down, resting his forehead on his friend's, reading him. Deep blue eyes looked up at him, worry clouding them. The pallor of Blair's face, the tension in his body, the scent of his apprehension all underscored his words. Jim relaxed; he knew he could trust Blair. It was much more than that; it went beyond trust; it was a belief that went bone deep. Knowing that he wasn't 

that great with words, but needing to express his trust in his guide, he shrugged and looked down at his partner. 

"I trust you, Chief. You hold my life, my sanity and my soul in your hands," he whispered, watching the smaller man. 

"Oh, man, that is so beautiful. Sometimes I think you have the soul of a poet." Blair's voice had dropped an octave, his eyes wide as he took in the meaning of the words. "You know I'll never betray your trust. I would never do anything to betray you." 

Memories of the bitter words he had thrown at his guide just a few months earlier blasted through Jim's mind. He winced at the thought. Faced with another sentinel in his territory, working with his guide, had made him lose control. Fearing Blair and fearing for him as well, he had thrust his guide away, using the most biting words he could think of at the time. All he had done was hurt his guide and get him killed. 

"Jim! Don't go there... I'm right here. I'm alive. We're together and Alex is gone." The tightly spoken words whispered through the sentinel's hearing. With a sharp shake, he pulled himself back to the present. 

"I'm here, Chief." Jim looked at his guide. The younger man was crouched close to him, one long fingered hand holding onto the one that was resting over his throat. When had they fallen? "I didn't mean to --" 

"Hey, I understand. You didn't mean to zone and I know it. We've talked it out. Alex is done and gone. We're okay. Right?" The dark blue eyes were pleading. 

"Yeah. We're okay, Chief." Some days it was still too close to the surface. Today was one of them. The feeling was strong enough that he could almost taste the water from the fountain. 

"Do you want to see the paperwork I brought home?" The enthusiasm wasn't there any more. Instead he could hear a hesitation in the words. "I thought you might like to see it." 

"Only if you translate the big words for my Neanderthal brain." Jim teased, getting a startled grin in return. 

* * *

  
Rainier University 11 September early am. 

The office was quiet as he checked his clock. No appointments scheduled for this afternoon; no classes; the staff lunch was canceled; this was looking good. Maybe, after his next class, he could just leave and work at home. Jim wasn't expecting him at the station today as he'd expected several of his students to stay and ask questions about their papers. Of course, since they 

hadn't, he had been free to check his E-mail. 

Blair rubbed the back of his neck as he considered the Rover's E-mail thoughtfully. The data was far different than he had expected, but he could extrapolate from it some very interesting tests for Jim's senses. A knock on the door made him curse quietly. Not now. He hadn't finished reading this one and he didn't want to lose his thoughts. 

"Sandburg! Just the man I want to see." The voice boomed through the office. A tall, barrel-chested man strode rapidly in, followed by Blair's advisor. 

"Dean Jamieson, good morning. What can I do for you?" Blair stared in shock as the two men came in and shut the door. He thought frantically but couldn't think of anything he'd done to merit the attention of the Dean and the Head of Anthropology. Regretfully he shut down his E-mail, closing the new document that Rovers had sent him. Maybe he could get back to it later. 

"How would you like to take a break from teaching classes? Say for the rest of the semester?" The Dean settled himself into a chair, watching him carefully. Blair found that having those keen brown eyes focused on him was disconcerting. The man was notorious for noticing things people didn't want him to see, and Blair was hiding lots of secrets from the University. Secrets he   
didn't want discovered. 

"I, well, I mean, why would I take the time off? What would I be doing instead?" He thought quickly. After a moment an ugly suspicion crossed his mind. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?" 

"You're fine, Blair. It's an opportunity for you to excel. You've heard about our coming collaboration with the Etterman Museum, Blair?" His advisor spoke up from the corner of the room, where he was examining an African mask. The professor turned and raised an elegant eyebrow. 

"Of course. It's going to display pre-Columbian art and current tribal culture of the Andean mountain tribes. The work is by Dr. Abraham Zelinski." Blair's eyes lit up as he began delving into his memory for information about the coming show. Grinning mischievously, he added. "It's quite an academic coup to have the man himself retiring from the field to come here. This show is going to document the thirty-five years of his research in the Andean mountain ranges." 

"Not too bad." The dean spoke softly and nodded to his colleague. "Go ahead and tell him." 

"Dr. Zelinski has been struck down with a serious tropical disease and has been admitted to Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. It seems they have a Tropical Disease Center there that's quite adequate for treating him, so there is no fear that he will be... oh I'm digressing again." The professor smiled ruefully at Blair. At the Dean's impatient snort, he continued. "We've convinced his assistant, Alex Fortaleza, to come here and set up the collection for Dr. Zelinski. The thing is he insists on having you help with the work." 

"Me?" Eyes wide, Blair stammered slightly. He looked from one man to the other, searching for the joke. "Why me?" 

"To quote the E-mail we received in response to our query, 'if he can survive Borneo, the American West and all the other digs he's been on, he can survive me'. " The dean chuckled gently at the stunned look on the younger man's face. "There was also a mention that Fortaleza liked several of your papers. If you want the job, it's yours. We'll find someone to cover your classes." 

"But I have ..." Blair was up and pacing. How could he refuse this offer? This was seriously important, as in something he could not turn down, not without losing major points with the university. 

"Sandburg, this is ..." The Dean's words were quiet, but there was a hard note in his voice. 

"I have to make arrangements for the classes, and my notes are, well..." He saw the older man watching him, tracking his movements and sat down. "What about my research and my work with the Police Dept.?" 

"Fortaleza said that he will not interfere with any times you set for research. It seems he likes schedules to be kept whenever possible." 

Blair nodded. This sounded like it might work, if, that is, the criminal element of Cascade decided to take a vacation. He licked his lips, not realizing that his eyes told the other men he'd just accepted their offer. "When do I start?" 

"Great. Fortaleza will be waiting for you in my office at five o'clock sharp. Vice President Chesterfield is picking him up at the airport now. They'll go to lunch on the way in from Seattle." The Dean stood and laid an envelope on Blair's desk. "This has the key to his apartment in the Commons and access keys to the Etterman museum and his office down the hall. You need to give him the local tour and make sure he gets settled. Monday, you begin working exclusively with him on Zelinski's exhibit. Greg will take over your classes." 

Blair raised his eyebrows. This had to be one of the fastest set ups he'd ever seen at the university. The very speed of the arrangements made something occur to him. "Um, is the apartment ready? You know, supplied? If Fortaleza just arrived, he may want to spend the weekend resting and ... Well, the visiting faculty apartments are nice but unless he knew to bring his own stuff, kind of bare." 

The two men looked at each other, frowning. The dean thought quickly. "I'll have Martha prepare a voucher for the one of the local stores. Do you think you can arrange to take him there?" 

Blair nodded helplessly. There went the weekend. If he refused, he knew he could kiss his job good-bye. He was in enough hot water with the department for his missed days, change of subject, inability to keep up with school and the PD. This he didn't want to mess up. 

His advisor handed him a paper with all the details written down. The two men stood and turned to leave. "If you get a chance, take some time to reacquaint yourself with the material." 

"Yes, sir, I will." Blair couldn't believe it. Part of him railed at the time that this was going to take, but part of him was dancing at his good fortune. Chosen to assist with the displays, he'd be able to handle and examine closely some very rare artifacts. He smiled happily as he turned to his bookshelves. 

He knew he had a book on the collection. Finding it, he glanced at the cover, recognizing a name on it. He opened the book and read the introduction. The co-author and the main contributor and illustrator was E. Alex J.Fortaleza. 

Then he saw the name of the photographer for the book, K.A.J. Mentally he whistled, even he had heard of K.A.J.'s photography. He checked the biography. K.A.J. , pronounced 'Cage' according to the blurb, admitted he really had liked working with Fortaleza on the site and would love to work with him again. 

He looked from one name to the other and grinned. He wondered briefly about that. If there was a connection it would be great, he knew how much his partner liked the photographer. He shoved it into his backpack. He had things to get done before he had to get over to the dean's office. 

Blair didn't even look as he dialed the station while pulling up his E-mail again. With rapid fingers he began printing up the E-mail he'd been working on as he waited for the line to be answered. 

"Ellison." Jim's voice barked. He had to smile as he heard the big man's voice. 

"Hey, Jim, I'm going to be late tonight." He could imagine the detective sitting up straighter, concentrating on what he could hear over the line. "I just got an unbelievable offer, man. The Dean came down personally to make it." 

"It had better be an offer about anthropology, Chief." He could hear the smile on Jim's lips. "I don't think the new dean is your type." 

"Cute, Jim. What do you know about Cage and E. Alex J. Fortaleza?" Blair bounced slightly on his toes as he pulled another book from the shelves. The same names were on it. 

"I like Cage's photography, Chief." The sentinel was listening carefully, waiting for the punch line. "You know that, you gave me the book of his Peruvian jungle pictures." 

"Did Fortaleza do the text of it?" Finished packing his backpack, Blair pulled up the library interface and began a search. It didn't take long before he was printing out a list of books that Fortaleza had written or co-authored. Then he printed the even smaller list that were solely by Zelinski. 

It looked like Zelinski and Fortaleza had worked together for a while but not exclusively. The interesting thing was that Fortaleza always used Cage as his photographer. Okay, maybe not always, but definitely 12 out of 12 times that Rainier had purchased one of the books Fortaleza co-authored, Cage was listed as the main photographer. Blair's grin got wider. 

Jim thought about the book, trying to remember the cover. "I'm not sure. The other names on it are... A. Fortaleza and A. Zelin or something like that." 

"Well, if I'm right, I'm going to be working with the same Alex Fortaleza who did the text for Cage's book. And Cage has done the photographs for at least a dozen other books with him." 

"Okay." Jim was confused. "I think I missed something here." 

"The Dean wants me to work exclusively with Fortaleza to set up an exhibit at the Etterman Museum." He could hear the little wheels turning in the other man's head. "Maybe, I'll be able to introduce you to Cage. But I won't be able to get home this afternoon because I've got to catch up on what their work. That means the rest of today I'll be either in the library doing research or in the office trying to understand it." 

"I understand. I have to help at a stakeout and that may make me late too. I doubt I'll be able to make lunch either." Jim sounded down. It wasn't the first time this week that they'd missed each other because both were too busy to get home. "I was hoping to see you before I left. I'll miss you again." 

"Yeah, sounds like it. This has been a really bad week. Are your senses acting up? I'll wait up for you, man." 

"I'm fine, Sandburg. You need sleep more than I need to talk to you about my senses. I'll see you sometime this weekend." 

"Call me if you need any help, Jim. I'm serious." 

"I promise." Jim answered before disconnecting the phone.   


* * *

  
Blair looked at his notes, trying to figure out exactly where and when Fortaleza had first appeared. If only he'd been able to locate a picture of the man. For the past few hours he'd researched everything about both Cage and Fortaleza. Something about the photographs and illustrations just made him think there was a secret there. Almost as if the two men had been   
laughing at each other and the rest of the world while they worked on the heavy book. He had been certain there was something he was missing. 

The fact that they always seemed to be at the same place and the same time had convinced him that they had to either be a couple. That or they must at least have a very interesting history, something almost like the one between him and Jim. All he'd been able to find were Fortaleza's papers, Cage's pictures, and a list of sites they were known to have visited. No pictures of   
either man, no biological information. How was he going to recognize him? 

Blair sighed as he closed the book and laid his head on the table. If he closed his eyes, maybe the thoughts whirling around his brain would finally coalesce into something coherent. He was certain of his theory, now if only he could prove it. He knew the two were linked together by some common factor. He just had to find it. 

A thought occurred to him, one of those random little things that annoyed his friends as disparate pieces of information linked together to form a new hypothesis. Rovers was listed as a contributor to the last expedition, the one that had delved into Incan use of the temples for astrological predictions. He booted up his computer and logged onto the Internet. Quickly he called up the lists of Rovers Teams and compared the locations and times to the list he'd already compiled. 

He shook his head and looked again. Cage was a photojournalist. A good one, specializing in South and Central America with a couple of jaunts around the world under his belt. Excluding those two trips, Cage was not always with Fortaleza, but he was always within fast reach one of the moving research teams. 

He double-checked Fortaleza's movements. Damn. There it was again. The same pattern. He shook his head in amazement. The two were in the same areas most of the time. But they were never in two different places at the same time, so it was very possible that they were both present at each location. There was always a research team near by. Therefore, one or both were involved in Rovers, Inc. Time for him to check the idea with someone who would know. 

* * *

Blair glared at the computer in frustration. He couldn't believe what he'd just found. How could the information be restricted? It wasn't like he was asking for specifics. He'd just noted that wherever Cage. or Fortaleza was, one of Rover's traveling research groups appeared. So he'd asked, through E-mail instead of over the chat line, if one of them was a member. The response was instant and furious. Well, he thought, if I can see the obvious, other people can too. If they want to keep it a secret, then they need to cover their tracks better. 

A chime sounded on the computer to announce an incoming E-mail. He opened it wondering what Rover "S" was going to say now. He grinned as he read: Sandburg, We knew you were smart, but you are the first person to make the connection between K.A.J. and Fortaleza, much less their connection to Rovers Research. I apologize for my compatriot's response but it was due to surprise. We request that you keep the knowledge quiet, as both of them have made impressive enemies in South America. Since you are to work with Fortaleza, we are very impressed. Both are known for their hermit-like avoidance of others. If you ask Fortaleza, you may get introduced to K.A.J. There is no information that we can release on either K.A.J. or Fortaleza that you have not already accessed through public resources, or through your access to non-restricted sources here. S. Well, that was a bit more cryptic than most of the notes he got from them, but he hadn't expected even that much after the first response he'd gotten. 

Blair glanced at the clock as he shut off the computer. Jim hadn't made it for lunch and he couldn't call him either. Why did he have to go off on a stakeout this afternoon? With the weather forecaster predicting an unusually early snowfall, he didn't want to drive his car over to the commons, but it looked like he didn't have much choice. He looked out at the heavy gray clouds. This was definitely not good. The phone rang. Nope, not good at all. 

"Hello?" Blair's voice was tense, waiting. 

"Hey, Chief." Jim sounded tired even over the phone. "Simon and I can't leave yet. Our relief called in sick, so it'll be at least seven or eight before I get back. Will you be okay running Fortaleza around in your Volvo?" 

"Yeah, man." Blair forced cheer into his voice. There was no point worrying the Sentinel with things that couldn't be changed. "We'll be fine." 

He decided to pass on his new information because Jim was an avid fan of Cage's pictures. "Jim, remember what I said about Cage and Fortaleza?" 

"Yeah, you thought that they might show up together or something since they work together a lot." 

"I think that Fortaleza and Cage might be ... well, more than they seem. Everywhere that Fortaleza goes, any site, expedition or dig, Cage takes the photos. There are a couple of references to Cage without Fortaleza, but none the other way around." Blair's words were drifting off as he studied his notes again. "Even when Fortaleza went to Asia to study the some of the most reticent tribal peoples left there, Cage was there. Since the people refused to allow pictures of themselves, all of Cage's pictures are of the scenery." 

"So they work together and travel together. That just sounds like they're a friends or maybe a couple." Jim grinned over the phone at his partner. "There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" 

"No, there isn't. It's just a little too perfect." 

"I think you've been hanging around me too long, Chief. You're starting to sound like a suspicious cop." 

Blair laughed. "No way, man. Look I've gotta run. I'll talk to you tonight." 

"See you then, Sandburg." Jim hung up the phone, still grinning at the thought that Blair was becoming a cynical cop. 

* * *

  
Blair headed into the Dean's office. He was a little early, but he figured that was better than being late. Martha smiled at him and handed him another envelope. 

"Just remember to hang on to all the receipts, Blair. Otherwise, we'll have accounting all over us." The older woman smiled at him. "I think you'll like this semester. Fortaleza has already set the staff on its ear." 

"What did he do?" Blair asked, curiously. In all the years he'd known the dean's secretary he'd never seen her quite so smug. 

"You'll see." She smiled as she picked up her purse. She checked that the door to the dean's office was locked and that her computer was off. "Chesterfield just called. They're running a little late due to the ice in the pass but Fortaleza should be here shortly. I have to leave, so just pull the door closed when you go." 

Blair couldn't help it. In the short time he waited for Fortaleza, he kept coming up with farfetched reasons for Martha's comments. They ranged from Fortaleza trying to smuggle drugs into the country to Fortaleza being the quintessential loud mouthed grad student who had insulted Vice President Chesterfield. Sometimes he hated his own curiosity and imagination. He knew that he was probably making a mountain out of a molehill, but he couldn't seem to stop. When he thought of all the odd bits of information he'd gotten, it only made it worse. 

"Excuse me, are you Blair Sandburg?" A warm voice interrupted his wild musings. He looked up to find a pair of silvery green eyes staring at him. The one thing he hadn't contemplated was the fact that Fortaleza might be a woman. 

Instantly, he understood the lack of information he'd come across. Working with a photojournalist who had taken some of the most beautiful as well as the ugliest pictures of South America, and having the world know she was a woman, would have been dangerous. If they had known, she would have been an instant pawn against the man. As it was, the Latino macho culture would work in her favor since none of them knew who she really was or that she was involved with Cage. 

As an anthropologist being a woman wasn't too big a deal. Some of the tribal peoples might be a little put out that a woman was studying them, but most of the tribes she had studied had been matrilineal. Those that weren't matrilineal, were known to have adopted Fortaleza. There wouldn't be any trouble with them because they had accepted her. Neither would they betray   
that trust by telling the authorities her secret. 

In fact, Blair thought they would probably enjoy having kept that a secret from 'civilized' people. His thoughts were broken as he caught the meaning of the vest and recognized the patterns on her vest, naming the tribes that she had studied. By wearing it like that, she was claiming their protection, sneaky but effective. That one there... it couldn't be. 

"You've been studying with the Calim'a? I thought they'd chased away every anthropologist who went near them. Or killed them." His voice trailed off as he looked back up at the young woman. "I didn't see anything about them in your papers." 

"I was introduced to them through another tribe, who vouched for me." A bright smile spread over her face, forcing him to refocus on her features. High cheekbones melded into an oddly arresting face. The burnished gold skin was tinted with a faint rose. Light brown hair coiled around her head, forming a smooth frame for her face. "I haven't finished my study, so I haven't   
published yet." 

That sounded like something he would have said, Blair thought. "I understand that completely. I have the same problem on a couple of papers myself." 

"Did my request for your assistance disrupt your schedule?" The woman's voice was warm. The accent was unusual though, not matching what he expected, a touch of British enunciation mixed with a hint of Spanish musicality. He wondered where she was from. He'd ask Jim after he introduced them; use her accent as a test for his hearing. 

"No. It's an honor and I can't wait to get my hands on the artifacts." He grinned sheepishly and stuck out his hand as it occurred to him that he'd never confirmed his identity. "I'm Blair Sandburg. Glad to meet you. I love your work." 

"Call me AJ. I love your work, too." Her hand met his in a firm, brief clasp. "The paper you wrote about the tribal structure within the Yanamamo clans was absolutely fascinating. When I realized that I had a chance to work with you, I jumped at it." 

"Your friend's photographs give almost much detail as one of my papers." Blair was deeply touched that she knew about his papers. He stopped his mental meandering when he noticed her shivering. 

"So, you figured it out. Most anthropologists are too busy with their own work to even notice." She grinned wryly. Dressed in jeans so worn as to be nearly white, a thin cotton work shirt over worn green T-shirt and a heavily patched and embroidered cameraman's vest, goose bumps had quickly and thoroughly covered her arms. A lightweight jacket was draped over her arm.   
Only her feet, encased in military style boots, looked warm. "I forgot about winter weather when I agreed to come. I guess I've lived in the jungle too long." 

"Do you have anything else you can change into, something warmer?" 

"Sorry, no. I thought winter started later, so I put my sweaters in a box and had them shipped from Manaus." She shrugged philosophically. Her next words made him chuckle slightly, proving that the young woman was both intelligent and observant. "And I wasn't about to borrow anything from Chesterfield." 

"I can understand that. Our first stop will have to be a store. Then your apartment." Blair winced internally as he shrugged out of his jacket. He'd feel the cold much less than she did. Once again he blessed Jim for giving him a set of old fashioned long underwear. They may look a little corny, but they kept him warm even without his coat. He held it out to her with a smile, watching her take in the layered shirts he wore and decide he was right. Too bad he couldn't call Jim to pick them up in his truck. It was far warmer than his car, but the detective was unavailable. "Do you have anything else?" 

She took the jacket, placing first her camera bag and then her backpack on the floor beside a silver case. Shrugging into the jacket, she looked at her bags. "Just these three." 

Blair nodded and picked up the silver case. It was heavier than he'd expected. At his look, she grinned at him. 

"It's more photo equipment." She explained quickly at his silent query. 

"I didn't know you were a practicing photographer too. I thought it was just a hobby or something you only did on expeditions." 

"I shoot all the sites, tribes and artifacts for any expedition I'm on. Sometimes Cage helps, but only on the biggies. I can carry it." She offered, slinging her backpack onto her back. At his instant negative head shake, she nodded, grabbing the camera bag. 

"Are you ready for cold? It's going to snow tonight." 

"Snow? I haven't seen snow in a long time." AJ's voice was soft, holding tones of reverence and memory. The look on her face was a curious mixture of fear and anticipation. "I didn't think you got much snow here." 

"Not usually, but the weather this year's been a bit crazy." Blair had to admit. Cascade was usually cool and rainy during the fall, not cold and snowy. "They're blaming El Niño." 

"Of course. That's the root of all weather problems lately, no?" She met his eyes and shrugged. "I guess I'm as ready as I ever will be." 

"Come on then." With a reassuring smile, he turned and headed for the exit. Behind him followed a doubtful looking photographer. 

Once in the Volvo, Blair turned up the heat. Beside him huddled AJ, her teeth chattering madly. The half-frozen glare she sent him made him chuckle. 

"I did warn you about the cold." Her mock growl at his comments made him laugh harder. "It'll be warm in here in a minute." 

"It's okay." The lilting voice trembled. "I'll survive." 

"Which store do you prefer? We have Walmart, K-Mart, Target..." The dazed look she gave him made his words freeze. 

"I have no idea. Chain stores aren't real big in South America, at least not the areas I tend to frequent. I always shop in small   
stores or mail order." Her eyes met his, cold, fear, and desperation all mingling in them. The irises had dilated until nearly disappearing. Her voice was soft, almost inaudible to him. "Blair, except for very short, as in two to three day visits, I haven't been in the US for nearly twenty years." 

Blair felt his jaw drop. Just the thought of staying away that long - the things he'd have to do without, the people he'd have never met, it made him shudder. "Where have you... I mean, you look too young to have lived so long outside the US. And what about your career?" 

Laughter rang out as she measured the shock and astonishment that flooded his face. For a moment, all the tension that he'd noticed was gone and there was genuine delight etched across her features. 

"Oh, I just love your face!! May I photograph you? Every nuance is there to be read in your eyes and your expression!" Her words ran together, her voice still tinged with delight. For a moment, her eyes held an almost childlike delight. "Even Cage would love taking your pictures." 

"But I ... never mind." Blair felt the heat rising in his face. He shook his head and put the car into gear. As he began to back the car out of its parking space, he glanced over at his passenger. Like a lithe feline, she was sprawled out, trying to absorb the warmth radiating from the heater vents. Her eyes drifted shut as the car warmed before springing open so she could watch the scenery pass. 

Blair cautiously maneuvered the car into traffic. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye showed her staring out the window. The silence was unnerving so he started asking questions. 

"Where have you lived? I've read papers of yours that are written about tribes all over the place. And then there are your findings and pictures." 

"Can I give you the digest version?" She turned back to face him. For the first time, he saw the tired lines around her eyes. 

"How long did it take you to get here?" 

"I left the group in the jungle ten, no eleven days ago and arrived in Lima eight days later. I think I have been in the air 23 hours." She watched him do the math. She'd been awake and on the move for longer than that. 

"Digest version is fine." 

"I promise, I'll flesh it out for you later. Most of my time has been spent in South and Central America. I've also worked a couple of archeology digs in Australia, a year in Zimbabwe and Kenya. Then there was last year's tour of Asia. Enough information?" The tension in her eyes belied the soft words. 

"For the moment, yes. But later I will want details of all the people you've studied. It'll make a fascinating story!" He smiled at her confusion, it looked like he had done what Jim always complained he did, lost his listener. The yawn that surprised her decided him. AJ needed to rest. He figured she could wear his spare coat for a few days until he took her shopping or got her a   
car or something. He headed for the loft so they could pick up a few things for AJ. He doubted that the U had realized that Fortaleza would pack this light. 

* * *

Blair looked over at Fortaleza, noting that her eyes had slitted in exhaustion again. She glanced around the parking lot as she began struggling into a seated position. 

"This is where I live. I'm going to grab a jacket and a couple of things for you and then take you to your apartment. Why don't you come in, it'll just take a minute and it's warmer?" Blair spoke softly, watching as AJ became fully aware of the surroundings. 

"Okay." She spoke quietly as she opened the door and followed him. 

Blair noted the fact that Jim's truck still wasn't back, as they entered the building. Briefly he wondered when his partner would return, but dismissed it. He'd known there would times he wouldn't see much of the detective from day one of this semester. He was so used to being at Jim's side through thick and thin that it was unnerving not to be. He sighed quietly as he unlocked the door to the loft. 

"Grab a seat, AJ." He told her as he pulled a duffel bag from his room. She looked around and decided it would be too dangerous to comply. She might fall asleep and then he'd want to insist she stay. Instead she stood, watching him curiously as he began tossing a few things into it. "This'll just take me a minute. I know the U doesn't provide everything you'll need, so I'll   
lend you some things until we can get you to the store." 

"Blair." AJ tried to interrupt his work. "As long as it has a roof, walls and a place to sleep, I'll be fine." 

"Well, I guess you could just at hotel for the weekend. That way you wouldn't have to borrow anything." Blair knew he was pushing, but some instinctive part of him was rearing its head. He'd learned the hard way not to ignore that instinct. He grinned impishly, throwing in his best pout as her eyes rolled. He could almost see the thoughts that were flashing behind her silver green   
eyes. "Hey, I'd worry. The dean said you were my responsibility until you Monday morning. Then you get to be the boss." 

AJ studied him. It was rare that she instinctively trusted outsiders or strangers, but she did trust Sandburg, somewhat. She watched him watch her and react to what she wasn't saying. Even exhausted she hadn't been able to sleep in his presence. Since her instincts were being as stubborn as the young man smiling at her, she had to shake her head. Blair's smile flickered   
slightly as he read the decision and he turned back to stuffing a blanket into the duffel bag before she could say the words: "I'll borrow your things, but I want to go to the apartment." 

Oh, yeah, she had definitely found the guide. But her instincts said he was no longer seeking. Bonded, maybe, maybe not. She wasn't going to know that for sure until she met his sentinel. If they were bonded, it was a fairly new thing. New enough to qualify as dangerous for her to be around the pair of them. No, she didn't want to interfere with them. She only wanted to be   
around if they needed her particular brand of protection. AJ found herself praying her dreams were wrong. 

A chill ran up her spine and she had to fight a curse. She needed to get the king knife away from here and locked up... it had recognized Sandburg too. She could feel its awareness as it turned the skin of her back cold. The aching chill that suddenly crawled up her spine and the pain that crept in its wake startled her. It was far too awake to ignore. The thing was supposed to be dormant. How on earth had it been woken? It had been dormant when she picked it up in Mexico, hadn't it? 

"Here's a coat you can keep for a while." AJ looked up at the sound of Blair's voice. While she'd been debating with herself, he'd finished grabbing the things he felt she'd need, including his spare coat. Wordlessly she stripped out of the one she was wearing and pulled on the drab olive seaman's coat he offered. 

Blair kept talking, "I'd let you keep this one, but it was a gift and --" 

AJ smiled. Definitely newly bonded. At least she didn't have to worry on that regard. She spoke softly, forcing him to stop speaking so he could hear her words. "It's okay. I understand. Thank you." 

"Well, let's get you to your apartment and then you can rest." The young man pulled on his coat as he spoke. "Do you think I could go over to the office so I can get started on the cataloging? I promise not to damage anything." 

"Blair, the school trusts you. I think I can trust you with any of the artifacts. If you want, bring a crate here to work on it. Just don't overwhelm yourself." AJ shook her head as she followed him down the hallway. She knew she was younger than the grad student, but she didn't have his kind of energy. Guides must genetically have energy, because every single one she'd met was the same way, always in motion or always busy. If he wanted a crate he could have it, just as long as she got to sleep. 

* * *

Jim paced the floor slowly. He glared out through the glass doors, watching the falling snow. Blair was late, really late. If anything had happened to the younger man, he'd never forgive himself. He should have lent him the truck this afternoon. It was bad enough that he'd been on edge since the moment he'd stepped into the loft this evening, but not knowing his partner's   
whereabouts was grating on his nerves. 

He felt like he'd let Blair down. When the younger man had wanted company to pick up the anthropologist/photographer, he'd had to go on that long, unproductive stakeout. He had to admit that he'd been hoping to meet the man whose photographs of the Andes he admired so much. For years he'd admired K.A.J.'s work, he even owned a book of his South American prints. Sometimes when he was thinking about his time in Peru, he all he needed to do was pull out that book and stare, remembering the jungle, seeing it again. 

The sound of Blair's engine froze Jim in mid-stride. He focused his hearing on the parking lot. The younger man was happily humming as he unloaded something from his trunk. Jim forced himself to calm down. Jumping on his partner the moment he stepped through the door would probably not be a good idea. 

Minutes later, the loft door opened and Blair staggered inside. His arms cradled a large wooden packing crate. It's weight made him tilt, overbalanced. 

"Here, let me take that, Chief." Jim stepped forward and took the crate from the other man's arms. He froze as the unusual scent overwhelmed him. 

The memory of the forest at evening filled his head. The scent of night blooming jasmine, chayote vine and red heart ferns filled the air. On the edge of his hearing he could hear the hunting cough of a jaguar. The crisp scent of fresh ozone made his nostrils tingle. 

In his mind's eye, he could see the rich black loam that nourished the plants around him. The brilliant greens and muted shadows of the triple canopy rain forest sheltered his soul, nurturing the hidden reaches of his psyche. The sweet, thick scent of a familiar herb taunted his memory. 

He heard the roar of an annoyed panther and a low rumbling growl. As he began focusing on the sound, the rhythm of drums echoed through the trees. It was accompanied by the voice of his guide. 

"Jim, come on, man. Come back to me." His guide spoke softly, but firmly. Just below the concern was fear. Something had frightened his guide. Jim's consciousness raced towards the familiar voice. "Come on, Big Guy. Follow my voice. Shut out everything but my voice. Don't leave me alone here." 

With a single lithe move, Jim was on his feet, gun drawn. He had to find whatever had made Blair so upset, so awfully pale. 

"Easy, Jim." The rich voice was much calmer, rapidly returning to normal. "Jim, what happened? What were you zoned on?" 

He shook his head, focusing on his guide. Blair's color was returning. His eyes were still wide, but not from panic. As he listened, the heartbeat fell back into its normal rhythm. Instinctively, he reached out and pulled the smaller man into a strong embrace. 

Blair's scent was wrong. The top layers were confused. The mingled scents of all the places he'd been, all the people he'd run into were easily stripped away. But not the other scent. Another person's scent overlaid his scent strongly. Not quite to the point of overpowering the unique scent of Blair, it was heavily interlaced with Blair's normal mix of herbal shampoo and soaps. 

Blair's gentle hands pushed him back. He could barely focus on those blue eyes. He felt the skin of his friend's hands brush across his cheeks, but it was faint and fading. 

"You're still zoning." The words fell from the guide's lips but they were meaningless to the sentinel. He buried his nose in Blair's neck. He inhaled deeply, finding only the familiar scent of his guide. More words hit his ears without making sense. "Oh man, you're probably zoning on AJ's scent. Let me get out of my jacket." 

Jim felt and heard himself growl as Blair stepped backwards, freeing himself from the harsh grip of the sentinel. His eyes narrowed as he watched every move the younger man made. First, the jacket and then the upper two layers of shirts hit the floor. When Blair spread his T-shirt clad arms wide, Jim pounced. 

"AJ is not a threat, Jim." He heard the velvety voice speak, its words finally making sense to his brain. One of his hands threaded itself through the long curls, his fingers gripping tightly to the soft strands. The other hand stroked a path across Blair's throat, confirming its knowledge of every gentle ripple of skin found there. He breathed in deeply, accepting the rich musky   
scent of his partner's skin. 

"Jim?" Blair's voice broke. "Look at me. Please." 

Reluctantly, the big detective broke off his study and looked up into Blair's eyes. The concern and the worry there made him swallow tightly. 

"I'm okay, Chief," he murmured. Suddenly he remembered the scents and where he had smelled them before. "She's from the Calim'a, isn't she?" 

"How did you know?" 

"I met one of their shaman when I lived with the Chopec. He used the same herbs for a cleansing ceremony." Jim's voice was distant. With smooth, economical grace he began to pace. "Every time Incacha and their shaman got together, the scent drove me nuts. Incacha ended up sending me away while they worked together." 

"Were they the enemy?" Blair whispered, hoping against hope that they were friends. 

"No, they were allies. In fact, they still are." 

Blair thought quietly about his sentinel's words. His mind raced, cataloging Jim's reactions and behaviors that night. He'd have to warn AJ not to meditate to that herb but otherwise, it sounded like she and Jim would get along. He grinned to himself. He was definitely going to have to speak to AJ and find out what went into that ceremony. He wanted to make sure that he knew   
what kind to avoid in the future. 

* * *

AJ shot awake, flames burning in her mind. With a muffled cry, she raced for the bathroom, her stomach protesting the half-remembered dream. 

It was several long minutes later that she stumbled past the crates littering the apartment to find her backpack. She quickly pulled out a sealed box and broke it open. She mixed pinches from several herb pouches and began brewing the soporific tea. 

* * *

  
Storm Page 

Storm Chapter 2 


	3. Tropical Depressions

Rainier University Apartments 26 Sept  
  
AJ stretched and rolled, luxuriating in the queen sized bed. Briefly, she wondered woke her. The raucous call of the telephone reminded her. With a low growl she grabbed the receiver and pulled it to her ear.  
  
"Aloa?" Her eyes remained firmly closed as she waited for the voice on the phone to form a picture of its owner.  
  
"AJ? This is Blair. What time do you want me to pick you up?" Blair spoke rapidly. "I promised we could go pick up whatever you needed today."  
  
The man was way too awake for her point of view. She smiled, picturing him, hands moving as he talked. Behind him, she could hear another man speaking softly, saying he'd speak to Blair later. "It's Saturday afternoon already?"  
  
"Yeah. I guess I woke you up. I'm sorry, I..." The anthropologist's voice was contrite.  
  
"No hay de que." No worries. Murmuring into the handset, AJ sat up and looked around for the clock. She stared blearily at the alarm clock she'd forgotten to set. "I told you to call me around now. I didn't expect to sleep this long. I'll be ready by the time you get here."  
  
"Are you sure? You could go back to sleep and call me when you wake up."  
  
"Thanks, but I'll be fine. Come on over. The door will be open when you get here." AJ hung up the phone and grimaced. If she hurried, there was time for a quick shower and a maybe little work before he got to the apartment. She pulled herself out of bed, wincing at the sore muscles that fought for her attention. She'd been on the road too long to really appreciate the comforts of civilization. She still needed to unwind. Maybe she'd get a break and get to relax during this assignment.  
  
  
  
Blair stumbled as he entered the apartment and froze in shock. Where he remembered a large, spacious living room, was a large pile of crates. He could barely get the door fully open and step into the narrow entranceway. Carefully closing the door, he took off his coat and began to hang it in the closet. With a rueful chuckle he realized just how well trained Jim had him, he was actually getting accustomed to hanging his coat up instead of tossing it on the nearest surface. He turned back to the living area.  
  
"AJ? Are you in here?" He called out, peering at the label of one of the crates. It was still nailed shut; customs seals in place, and delivery label firmly attached to the top. The name on the crate read Zelinski. She'd had the artifacts delivered to the apartment? What was going on?  
  
"Have a seat, if you can find one." AJ's voice came from beyond the pile of crates.  
  
Blair decided he had to be imagining the sheer enormity of the task before him. He closed his eyes, but the crates were still there when he reopened them. The crates were piled four high and stretched from wall to wall, with only a narrow aisle through them. He pulled out his glasses and settled them on his nose; the crates didn't disappear like he'd half hoped they would. Finally accepting their reality, he shrugged and began carefully slipping through the narrow aisle.  
  
A small oasis was formed by the coffee table, which held a pair of crowbars, a box cutter, pen, notepad, and other assorted items. AJ looked up from her perch on the arm of the sofa and raised an eyebrow at his amazed expression. She looked around at the crates and smiled briefly at him. Capping her pen, she laid a notepad down wearily.  
  
"When did these get here?"  
  
"They were delivered right after you left yesterday." AJ yawned and stretched. She tucked her pen behind her ear and shuffled through a set of invoices. "I haven't gotten much done with them though."  
  
"What's in them? Artifacts for the exhibit?" Blair peered into the open crate at her side. With gentle hands, he pulled out a pottery urn. The markings on the vase looked familiar, but the urn was too small to contain a human body. "It looks like an amaru urn, but it's too small."  
  
AJ looked up at it before checking her notes. "Yeah, that's what it looks like. I still have to check a couple of old journals to see if Zel noted where he got it. But I haven't found the crate of journals."  
  
"So this is all for the exhibit?" Blair looked around the apartment again.  
  
"I don't know yet. I've got to sort through the stuff and figure it out." AJ sighed tiredly and ran her fingers through the packing material of the crate next to her. "Some of this is his personal stuff, some of it is for the exhibit, and some of it is junk."  
  
"Don't you have a master list? Or some kind of note system?" He looked at her in disbelief.  
  
For a moment, AJ's fingers stilled and she looked up at the man peering down at her, eyes wide. Then she looked away, a muffled chuckle sounding from between her tightly clamped lips. She pulled her pen from behind her ear and wrote a couple of notes. Then the pen dropped onto the table. A slow shudder traced her spine as she wrapped her arms around herself. Rich, warm, vibrant laughter pealed through the apartment as AJ lost her battle against the it.  
  
Blair watched in amusement as she laughed; part of him knew that the tense woman needed the release.  
  
After several minutes, AJ regained control, and wiped tears from her face. "My uncle? Take legible notes? Be organized? Oh, Sandburg, he keeps all his notes in his head, never on paper. I take it you've never worked with him?"  
  
Smiling wryly, Blair sat on the corner of the table. "No, I never got the pleasure. I always wanted to join one of his expeditions but the timing never worked out."  
  
AJ looked up at him and froze, all the laughter in her eyes disappearing. The sudden ice cold fury made her eyes turn a slate gray. "Who did that to you?"  
  
Blair blinked in confusion, trying to understand the cold fury she was projecting. After a moment, his hand crept up to his neck, covering the marks there. At her small nod, he grinned in relief. "This? It was an accident."  
  
"Sorry. I ..." Her golden skin turned pink as she blushed. "I mean... I thought... mm."  
  
"Don't worry about it. It was kind of cute... the idea of you going after... oh man. You are as bad as the guys at the station the day I came in with a hickey from Sam." He grinned eyes and hands dancing enthusiastically. A light pink tinge touched his cheeks as he thought of the very thorough questioning Jim put him through. It was worse than anything his mom had ever done. Now it looked like he had another person worrying about him.  
  
"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize you had a lady friend. I'll try to keep a low profile, so I don't get in the way." AJ returned his happy smile, her eyes warm again. Mentally she told herself to get a customs dictionary. She was definitely going to need it here.  
  
"Umm, AJ First off, this is not a hickey... it's a bruise. It was made by an accident." He rushed his words, trying to find a gentle way to correct her misunderstanding. "Secondly, you're not going to be in the way. The ladies I date, well, they know I work at the U and they'll understand. I'll tell them about the exhibit and it won't be a problem."  
  
"Again, I put my feet in my mouth."  
  
"That's okay, it happens. Would it be all right if we met up with my roommate later? I think you would really like him." Blair smiled. "He loves Cage's work."  
  
"What is his name?" Fortaleza turned, focusing tightly on Blair. Watching and waiting for the answer.  
  
"Jim Ellison." Blair answered quickly, a bright smile flashing across his face. "He's a really nice guy, a little gruff sometimes. But I think the two of you will hit it off."  
  
Perfect, she had wondered how to get an introduction to his roommate. Then it clicked. Blair's roommate was the same man. He had to be. That meant that there could only be one sentinel in Cascade and he was someone she had heard about. It also meant that the guide in front of her was technically family. She began to smile happily. Maybe life was going to be easy for a change. "Jim Ellison? The soldier who held the Chopec pass? I have heard so much about him and what he did."  
  
"He's kind of..." Blair began. It hadn't occurred to him that Fortaleza would recognize Jim's name or be so delighted to realize that Jim was in Cascade.  
  
AJ smiled sadly and finished his sentence. "...reticent? Shy about it? I will not bother him, I just need to deliver a package the Chopec asked me to bring. When it arrives, I'll let you take it to him. I understand what he went through back then. It is not easy to lose that many friends at once. I know better than to say or do anything to cause him pain."  
  
Blair nodded. He was relieved that she understood what Jim went through. He was also happy that she wasn't put off by the fact. "I'm glad it doesn't bother you."  
  
She looked at him curiously. "What? The fact that he survived and the others didn't? That was a matter for the spirits to decide."  
  
Blair started to speak but the closed expression on her face made him change his mind. He looked around the room. He had a feeling that the subject was closed.  
  
"Do you have any coffee? I'd love to get started." The researcher in Blair was itching to start working. He glanced into the kitchenette, wondering how much time he could put in today. AJ's answer brought him up short because for a moment he had forgotten why he was there on a Saturday.  
  
"Not yet, I have to pick some up." The young woman stood slowly, moving cautiously between the crates. "I have some tea I brought with me, if you want it."  
  
"Didn't they leave any supplies?" AJ shook her head and he winced. He hadn't had a chance to check before dropping her off the day before; she'd insisted that she would be fine with whatever was available or in the bag he'd packed. "I need to take you shopping. "  
  
"You are supposed to be my assistant, not my personal servant." The wry words were spoken flatly. "I don't believe in turning research assistants into slaves."  
  
Before he could respond to her comment, she stretched again, yawning. The ominous rip that sounded made her grimace. One hand flew to her shoulder where a worn seam had let go. Blair winced at her expression. He definitely needed to get her over to the store like he'd promised. She shook her head, "OK, I admit it, I need to go to the store."  
  
"Do you have a list of what you need?"  
  
She nodded and pulled out a list. "It's pretty long. Do you mind?"  
  
Blair took the list and looked it over carefully. "This reads like supplies for an expedition."  
  
"I'll need the same basics as I would on an expedition, right?"  
  
"You missed a couple of things that you'll really need for the winter weather, some of the other stuff, well, it's not needed." Blair reached for the pen. Quickly and neatly he crossed off a few items before adding some others. He reread the list and looked over at the silent woman. "What kind of supplies will you need for your photo lab?"  
  
Startled green eyes met his. "Photo lab? But..."  
  
"Easy, it's okay." Blair's hands reached out to soothe, but she shied away nervously. He made a mental note to himself not to crowd her. "Since Zelinski can't be here to lecture in the senior seminar, you've been drafted as an assistant. You've made a name for yourself taking pictures of artifacts, dwellings, stuff like that. It's not as big as Cage's but you're known for your anthropological and archaeological pictures. That's what the dean wants you to share."  
  
"I can do that." She mused quietly. "I have to go to a specialty store for the photography supplies."  
  
"How do you get supplies when you're not in the US?" Blair's curiosity was piqued as he watched her formulate her plans. "I mean, it's not like they have the things you'd need in some of the places you've been."  
  
"I have everything sent to me. I use the Internet for supply lists." She grinned at his shocked look. "I'm not a total barbarian."  
  
"Now, my foot is in my mouth." He chuckled.  
  
"Even steven?" She held out her hand. He took it and nodded. It had been a long time since he'd heard that expression.  
  
"Do you think we can get it all done this afternoon?"  
  
"Yeah. Not a problem." Blair skimmed the list again. "The U will supply some of this stuff."  
  
"I'd prefer to get it myself." AJ's voice was tense. "I don't like owing an institution."  
  
He looked at her and shrugged. Blair could almost understand AJ's comment. During the days when he'd been traveling with his mother, he'd met people like her. They were the ones who were constantly on the move, never settling even briefly. They survived mainly on a barter system and debts were freely given, accepted and paid, in exchange for survival. At least, between people. None of them seemed to like dealing with institutions. "Yeah, I can understand not owing the U. But, that leaves them in debt to you."  
  
AJ smiled brightly. "Yeah, but that I can live with."  
  
"Do we need to do anything else before we head out?" Blair asked, as he studied the clay pot from the crate again.  
  
"Just figure out when we are working together." AJ watched him quietly. The reverence and care with which he handled the pot was evident both in his movements and his expression. She would have to be very careful with scheduling . It was obvious that he would wear himself out trying to keep up with the exhibit as well as his own work. "According to the information the Dean sent me, you work with me twenty hours a week. I need to know when you are scheduled to work with your research subject so we don't have any conflicts."  
  
"My schedule is pretty flexible. I can meet you anytime you want." He picked up a spare pen from the table and grabbed a notepad from the table. He wrote a detailed description of the pot and his estimation of it's identity. "Are the crates labeled?"  
  
"Yes, check the other side. Each has a year and box number." She pointed to the inked markings. "I'll bend to your schedule. I can catalog anytime. The thing I'll need the most help with is making the arrangements for the exhibit itself. I've never done one before."  
  
Blair finished writing the information about the pot and set the pot on the table. "I know how to do that part, so we should have no problems. You do have an idea of what Dr. Zelinski had planned with the exhibit?"  
  
"Yes, I do. We'd debated this exhibit for the past few years. He wanted to show the world how modern, western civilization has impacted the people." A pensive look crossed her face. "I'm pretty sure I can recreate his plans. I have his proposal and the details he sent the dean, so I have a starting place."  
  
"If you know what he wanted, we should be able to get the rough idea drawn up fairly quickly. The cataloging will take up most of our time." Blair looked around at the crates, trying to estimate the amount of work it would take to categorize the contents. "When do you want me here?"  
  
"You can show up whenever you have time." AJ watched him again, noting his movements and mannerisms. The obvious desire to work with the artifacts was blunted by the desire to be elsewhere. Or maybe it was the desire to be with someone else, like his sentinel. "You tell me when you can be here. We'll make that the schedule."  
  
"My schedule can get real hectic, real fast. I'm an observer with the Cascade PD. My hours with them are sporadic." Blair tried to explain, not knowing if he could make her understand exactly how hectic his life could get.  
  
She waited thoughtfully; maybe the guide has bonded fully with his sentinel after all. That would make life easier for her, but not by much. It wasn't as if she didn't have any ideas as to who his sentinel might be, and if she was right, Blair was in good hands. Her main concerns were the strength of the bond and protecting the Guide/Sentinel pair. Everything else, even Zel's work, was secondary. Damn, she knew she'd missed something, but what was it. "I can be here and awake from dawn to midnight. Write me a list of times you want to be here, and it'll be done. No working on the weekend unless it's an emergency. Deal?"  
  
"It's a deal." Blair smiled inwardly. Jim had been worried that this assistantship would make it harder than ever for them to work together at the PD. From what AJ had just said, it sounded like this would be perfect. "Does that mean no working today?"  
  
"If you don't mind taking me to the store, I'll let you go as soon as we get back." At Blair's half reluctant glance at the pile of crates, AJ relented. "I'll let you tackle a crate if you want. But I don't want to rush, and I don't want you to be working much tonight. It's the weekend and you didn't get much warning that I was coming."  
  
Blair had to chuckle at that. "I can do that. Ready to go? The sooner we get to the store, the sooner we return."  
  
"Anxious to see inside the crates?" At Blair's embarrassed grin she nodded. "I understand. I like going through them myself."  
  
  
  
Several hours later found Blair loading packages into his car. AJ was deftly reloading the camera that seemed to live around her neck.  
  
"I can't believe that man actually thought I was..." Blair grumbled, as he placed the last bag in the trunk. "I mean, I don't look like I'm that desperate!"  
  
"Well, between the worn jeans, fingerless gloves, stubble and long hair you look like the people I've read about, living on the streets. So he thought you needed a handout, it was kind of funny."  
  
"But he didn't have to be so condescending if he thought I was..."  
  
She grinned at him, still chuckling. "What's even better, is that I have it on film."  
  
"Oh, no you don't. I want that film." He stopped trying to arrange the bags in the trunk. At his growl she backed away warily, one hand sliding into her open coat.  
  
"Um, Blair, what are you doing?" Her half grin never faltered as she slipped around the car, trying to escape the snow in his hand. "I don't think that is a good idea."  
  
"Promise that picture never sees the light of day!" He weighed the snowball thoughtfully, watching her.  
  
Wide eyes stared at him, keeping the snowball in view as she backed up again. "I can't do that. It's perfect blackmail material."  
  
"AJ.." Blair growled, trying not to laugh at her expression. As her eyes darted away, looking for an escape route, he threw the cold, wet, snowball.  
  
"Ugh! That's cold!" AJ glared at him, laughing as she spat snow. Her gloved fingers brushed more snow from her face. "Okay, I won't use it without your permission. In fact, I'll let you have a copy of everything you're in. Deal? Just don't throw any more snow at me!"  
  
"Deal." Blair answered happily. He knew his eyes were as merry as hers. "We'd better get over to the grocery store before it closes."  
  
"But it's still daylight."  
  
"It's Saturday, AJ" Blair watched as comprehension dawned. "The only place that has anything like what you're used to buying is a little specialty store. They close early today."  
  
  
  
The two young people were still laughing and talking a mile a minute as they went through the store. They quickly grabbed the basics and a few special items for AJ's kitchen, pausing at the produce area.  
  
"Hey, AJ?" Blair called out. She raised her head from where she was deciding between different kinds of fruit. He held up an odd looking root. "Is this what you were looking for?"  
  
"Yes. That's a malanga. Makes a great meal. Grab a small one for me, please."  
  
Blair looked at the hairy root and frowned. He nodded to himself as he bagged it. "And Jim says I eat weird things."  
  
"It's not that bad." She grinned at him from the other side of the bin. "I thought you said you were adventurous."  
  
"I am, but I usually don't eat things that look like giant mustaches." He grinned to himself.  
  
"Right... but you said you like trying new food."  
  
"I do, but this is not food, it's wood."  
  
"I'll prove to you it's food. In fact, I'll teach you how to cook it."  
  
"Sounds like a plan." He tossed the bag at the cart.  
  
AJ's eyes widened as she saw the armed man appear behind Blair. She barely had time to yell, "Blair! Duck!"  
  
Blair instinctively obeyed her order. Hitting the floor, he stared at her without comprehending as she scrambled behind a bin. Just as he decided it was some weird joke she was trying to pull, a shotgun blast fragmented the top layer of fruit in the bins. Pale green eyes watched him as she froze on the floor next to him. Pieces of fruit and malanga rained down over them. Down stuffing from the filling of her parka floated slowly around them, attesting to the closeness of the shot.  
  
AJ let her eyes roam over the anthropologist. Please, her mind prayed frantically, please don't let him be hurt. I'm supposed to protect the Guide from sacrifice. Don't let me lose him to something this stupid. She sighed in relief as she realized that he was unhurt. She measured the distance to the man with the shotgun and knew it wasn't time to fight -- not yet.  
  
"Did I get your attention?" A surly voice came from behind him. They stayed frozen on the floor as booted feet approached. Blair closed his eyes as the muzzle of the weapon dug into his spine. If it wasn't for bad luck, he wondered if he would have any luck at all. "Get up, both of you."  
  
Slowly, they stood, Blair staying between the shotgun and AJ. Behind him, he could hear her fumbling with her zipper. After a moment, she slid her hand into his. With firm movements, she placed a pair of cold objects into his hand and closed his fingers around them.  
  
"Come on, girlie. Don't hide behind your boyfriend." The man was huge, easily six foot eight or taller. Blair stared up at him; even Simon Banks would be dwarfed by this giant. AJ peered up at him as she passed the anthropologist. As she got closer to the gunman her nose wrinkled and her skin blanched. He leered at her, chuckling when she moved away skittishly. The man taunted them. "Think he can protect you? Move it, both of you. Head to the registers, now!"  
  
The barrel of the shotgun dug into Blair's side as he was maneuvered forward. Beside him, he could feel AJ trembling, but he couldn't do anything to reassure her. A quick glance at her told him that she was furious rather than afraid. Blair worried about it; he didn't need her going off halfcocked. When her eyes glanced at him, he shook his head. She nodded in acknowledgment, her eyes accepting his decision, at least for the moment.  
  
At the front of the store, a second gunman was emptying the cash registers. His shotgun was pointed at a small group of people crowded together in a corner. He glanced at the approaching group and began yelling at their captor. "Hurry up! Time's running short!" He turned back to the larger group of captives.  
  
"Which of you is the manager?" The man behind them spoke forcefully, his shotgun still digging into Blair's back.  
  
An older man stepped forward. He looked around, heart in his eyes as he took in the two men's attitude. "I am."  
  
"Good. You can open the safe for us," the man said in a calm voice, which frightened Blair more than if he had been shouting.  
  
The large man pushed Blair and AJ into the other people and grabbed the manager's arm. Then he hustled him into the office area where they could hear him ordering the man to open the safe. The man who'd been ransacking the registers leveled his weapon at them as he walked over to the windows to watch for trouble.  
  
A muted flash of light caught Blair's attention. The lens of AJ's camera peeked at him from the open front of her torn parka. His eyes widened as he realized she had turned it on. Very faintly, he could hear the occasional click of the shutter and the whirl of advancing film. She raised her eyebrows at him, as if silently asking what he'd expected. Blair was amazed at the fact that he hadn't noticed her movements to keep the two thieves in sight of the camera.  
  
Blair looked around, trying to see if the police had arrived yet. As busy as this store was, someone was bound to report the sight of armed men fairly soon. That was if none of the cashiers had pushed one of the silent alarm buttons. He knew that soon his friends would be arriving. Once that happened, he wanted to be able to do whatever his partner needed him to. Jim would be furious at him for being in this situation, his reaction to the thieves would be even worse. He just hoped that they arrived before things got ugly.  
  
The sound of raised voices, echoing eerily from the office, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Beside him, he felt AJ tense, coming to attention. He had a bad feeling they were about to run out of time.  
  
From the office came the sound of a shotgun blast and a muted thump as something or someone hit the floor. AJ closed her eyes and swallowed harshly. The other captives murmured and one began crying. Blair winced, imagining too clearly what had happened. When AJ's eyes reopened they met his. He could almost read the preparedness there and it bothered him.  
  
Blair took the chance to glance at his hand. AJ's stance beside him hid the objects from anyone else's view. A pair of small wooden darts, the tip of each encased in a leather sleeve rested in his palm. He raised his eyebrows at her as she shrugged wordlessly.  
  
AJ leaned her head on Blair's shoulder, watching the gunman. Her voice was low, almost too low for him to hear. "Curare. If you get a chance, it might save us."  
  
He slowly shook his head, eyes widening as he realized what she meant. He glanced over at their guard and back to her. "No, we need to let the police handle this."  
  
Her green eyes narrowed and then she sighed. Her head nodded against his chest, hiding her words and expression from their captors. "For now, I wait. But if it gets ugly, you drop fast!"  
  
"AJ," he murmured. There was no way he wanted to take on two shotgun-wielding maniacs.  
  
"Tommy! The cops are here!" The man at the window bellowed. "One of the bitches must have tripped an alarm!"  
  
The sound of chambered rounds brought the hostages' eyes to the front of the store. AJ glanced at Blair and shook her head, eyes frightened but calm. Her lips moved soundlessly. "Too far away."  
  
"Everyone on your knees!" The one named Tommy, yelled.  
  
AJ and Blair fell to their knees along with the rest of the hostages. For once, the outspoken anthropologist decided that silence was the better part of valor. The fact they had already killed one man meant that trying to talk them down was not a real possibility. Then too was the fact neither man wore a mask; the hostages were witnesses to the murder.  
  
The older man approached the group angrily, cursing his partner. He stopped in front of the kneeling captives and studied them for a moment. He pointed to AJ and Blair with the shotgun. "You and you, come with me."  
  
Her head bowed, AJ obeyed. As Blair stood, he saw the thin leather caps fall to the floor. Damn, Simon and Jim were going to be pissed at them for this. But he couldn't see any alternative. The men had already killed one person. Their faces were plainly visible so they couldn't leave any witnesses. This was going to be the only chance they had. With his fingertips, he gently pulled the caps off his darts as they were marched to the window.  
  
"Tell me what you see." The man forced AJ to her tiptoes, his hand wound deeply into her hair, fingers biting into her scalp. Lines of pain formed on her face and she became even paler.  
  
"I see cars with flashing lights and lots of men hiding behind them." AJ's melodic accent stopped as the man slammed the shotgun barrel into her side. Her breath wheezed out in a rush and she gasped, trying to breathe. Her eyes blazed furiously before she lowered her eyes submissively.  
  
"How many cops?" he demanded.  
  
"Cops? Cops are what you call policemen?" The puzzlement in her voice nearly made Blair smile. If it weren't for the seriousness of the situation, it would be almost amusing. The best part was he didn't think she was faking, she really didn't recognize the word. "I think there are ten, maybe fifteen now."  
  
"Damn!" The man pulled her around, dragging her back into the store. "Tommy! Pull back!"  
  
For a moment, both men had their shotguns pointed up, away from each other as they discussed their options. Blue eyes met green and the decision was made instantly. Each of them gripped their darts tightly. Still watching each other's eyes they moved at the same moment, jabbing backwards with the darts.  
  
"What the..." Tommy couldn't even finish his question. As the curare streaked through his bloodstream, AJ whirled. One hand kept the shotgun pointed safely at the ceiling as she pulled it from his grasp. The large man fell in a heap at her feet. She turned to see Blair's captor hit the floor. They grinned at each other in relief.  
  
The other hostages, realizing they were free, began dazedly scrambling to their feet. They looked around, searching for another threat before rushing to the door. Their hands raised, the panicked people ran out of the building en masse. As he heard the bullhorns frantic shouts, Blair winced. He just hoped someone from Major Crimes was out there; he didn't want to try getting his ID out right now.  
  
"Put the shotgun on the counter over there, AJ." Blair's voice was soft, as his actions echoed his words. Even as she followed his directions, police officers burst into the store.  
  
"Get your hands on your heads! Kneel! Do not make any other moves!" The first of the officers yelled.  
  
"We were hostages." Blair spoke quietly, obeying the orders of the men with the pistols. "Look, call Captain Simon Banks of the Major Crimes department. I'm..."  
  
"SANDBURG!" The deep bass roar of his captain brought a smile to his face. "What are you doing in the middle of another hostage situation?"  
  
"Well, Captain, it's like this..." he began.  
  
"Never mind. Just fill out the paperwork and I'll read it later." The big man cuffed Blair's head. "I should have known that if something went down just off campus you'd be involved. Get up."  
  
Blair grinned and turned to AJ. The sight of her pale, panicked face made him freeze. He followed her eyes to the police officers that stood over the unconscious robbers, their weapons drawn. The fixed look of terror in her eyes made him move quickly to stand between her and the sight of the uniforms. A short blurb from the information he'd found about Fortaleza's past clicked into place. One of Zelinski's anthropological expeditions had been detained during a South American coup and Fortaleza had disappeared from sight for over a year. The look on her face made sense if accepted the idea that she had been imprisoned for at least part of that time.  
  
"AJ?" The sound of Blair using his Guide voice brought Simon to a stop. He watched silently as the younger man gently touched her arm, trying to get her attention. "Come on, AJ It's not what you think. This is Cascade. The police are on our side. They don't attack civilians, they protect us. Come on, there's no reason to panic."  
  
Her eyes slowly moved up his body to meet his eyes. Her panic was barely held in check. He watched as she read his soul through his eyes; read that he trusted these people with his own life as well as hers and finally nodded. If he wanted her to trust them, he had to show her that trust. He almost could hear the little voice in her head as it spoke, Sandburg was the one with the experience with the Cascade PD. Follow his lead. After a long moment, he saw her nod her acceptance.  
  
Blair kept his gaze on her face, but his words were for the police captain standing behind her, ready to grab her if she panicked. This was not a situation for panicky civilians, not with weapons already drawn and held at ready. He wasn't sure when the captain had moved into place, he had been concentrating too hard on reaching through AJ's panic.  
  
"Sir, are there any female officers present? AJ could probably stand to have someone escort her to her apartment on campus. The officer could get her statement there."  
  
"I think that's a real good idea, Sandburg. I'll have Megan take her home." Simon pitched his voice low, soothing the frayed nerves of the tense young woman.  
  
"AJ, you need another new coat." Blair pulled her to her feet, still blocking her view of the uniformed officers. His hands moved slowly and gently as he removed her parka and looked for blood. She focused on him and shook her head, smiling slightly.  
  
"It missed me. Just got the coat." The music in the voice was faded, almost inaudible. Shock was reflected in her eyes and the weary slump of her shoulders. "Can we go now?"  
  
"One of my friends will take you to your apartment." Blair explained slowly. "I have to stay here and fill out paperwork. Besides if I'm not still here when Jim gets here, I'll be in more trouble than I care to think about. I'll come over to your place with your stuff in a little while."  
  
Simon was proud of the way the kid handled the situation. Even he could tell the woman was very close to collapsing or worse. In this kind of situation, if she lost it, someone could easily get hurt. He lifted a hand and summoned Megan to them.  
  
Blair looked down and scanned her briefly, judging her ready to be passed on to the Australian officer. He pulled off his own coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. "AJ, this is Megan, she's a good friend of mine. She'll take you home. I'll be by in a couple of hours. OK?"  
  
"I'm fine." The too soft voice answered. Mechanically, she reached for her camera and rewound the film before removing it. Her eyes were still focusing on something he couldn't see as she handed it to him. "They may want this."  
  
"Please, as a favor to me? Let her take you home?" Blair watched her, his hand white around the film. He couldn't quite understand her panic now of all times. He'd gotten so accustomed to policemen that he almost never gave them a second thought. He handed AJ's keys to Megan, knowing she'd take care of the pale photographer. The address was on the tag so they wouldn't have any problem finding the apartment.  
  
AJ looked at the other woman and nodded. She murmured. "'Ta bien."  
  
"Now, are you going to explain this to me?" Simon asked quietly as the two women walked away. "I thought you were working on a special project for the Dean."  
  
"Fortaleza is the project, Simon..." Blair began only to be cut off.  
  
"Simon! Have you seen Blair? His car is..." The worried voice of Detective Ellison intruded. The sentinel stalked into the store and stopped upon seeing the two men. The pale blue eyes scanned his partner from head to toe before stating the obvious. "Where's your coat? You're going to freeze!"  
  
"I'm fine, Jim. Not a single new bruise." Blair grinned at his sentinel. He knew that Jim had already gone over him with his senses, making sure that he was unhurt. "Everything turned out fine."  
  
"What were you doing here?"  
  
"Fortaleza needed a ride to the store, so I brought her here." He gestured at the two men being hauled off by a mix of police and paramedics. "Unfortunately for us, my timing was as good as ever."  
  
"Speaking of that, Sandburg," Simon interrupted, hoping to keep from hearing the whole story. He knew the younger man, and he knew his often long-winded explanations. "I want the short version of how you and your friend managed to knock those two out."  
  
"You did that?" The pale eyes turned laser sharp. The man's nostrils twitched, as if he was trying to smell something vague. "I. . . curare! Where did you get curare?"  
  
"It was a gift from my new boss?" Blair knew he sounded hesitant, but he had to get back to check on Fortaleza. Once the dean heard about this fiasco, he was going to be out of job and warned to stay away from her. He wanted to make sure that she was all right before he had to go back to teaching classes. Then he saw the gaze that Simon had locked on his throat. Shit! This was not the time for that discussion. Not again. If he thought Jim was an overprotective mother bear, he didn't want to even try handling Simon. And if Simon realized that Jim had zoned on him and left bruises... nope. He was getting out while the getting was good. "Look, Simon, I'll write up a quick statement. I'll flesh it out later if you need me to. Okay?"  
  
Both of the older men watched in amazement as the anthropologist slipped between a pair of departing police officers. After a moment, the Captain turned to his detective and smiled. It was not a nice smile, either. "I want an explanation, Ellison. What did you do to Sandburg this time?"  
  
"What?" Ellison's back straightened, his bearing tense.  
  
"I saw those bruises, Detective." The bigger man's voice was cold. "And he said that he didn't get any new bruises."  
  
The sentinel went white. His whisper was part pain and part fury. "I would never deliberately hurt Blair. You know that, SIR!"  
  
"Then find out who gave those to him and make sure it stops." Banks' eyes were furious. The words he spoke were soft and deadly. "I don't care how consensual the Kid says it was. If his new lady friend leaves him enough bruises that he has to justify them to you then there are too many! I don't want to risk losing him again!"  
  
Simon didn't wait for a response. He turned on his heal and stalked out of the store.  
  
The meaning of the words soaked in and Ellison stared after his captain's retreating back. He knew that the big black man had a soft spot for his partner, but to worry that much about him. He wondered briefly what Simon would say if he told him the truth, that Jim had caused the bruises while zoned on his guide. The Captain would probably throw him in lock-up for the weekend. With a slow, thoughtful grin, the detective walked out of the store. He was bemused enough to completely ignore the reporters that crowded around the area as they tried to get a story. He couldn't wait to tell Blair about Simon's conclusions. He knew the younger man would get a laugh out of it.  
  
  
  
  
  
Jim Ellison stared at the television. He hadn't seen much of Blair in the past 24 hours. Ever since Blair's phone call the day before, they'd been too busy to really talk. Before they'd been able to at least talk about the changes that this new assignment would cause, Simon had called needing Jim to cover a stake out with Connor. After that, Blair had been busy with Fortaleza.  
  
Yes, they'd had long talk late Friday night into Saturday morning, about Jim's reaction to the Calim'a. Then while the sentinel slept, the guide worked. He'd spent the entire night working, spending his time rewriting the notes for the classes he was giving up, typing up notes about Jim's reaction to Calim'a herbs, and doing research for the exhibit. After finally falling asleep from exhaustion, Blair hadn't stirred when Simon had called needing the sentinel's assistance. When Jim returned, Blair was gone again. Of course, he had seen Blair, briefly, at the crime scene, but the kid had slipped away before Jim could catch him.  
  
The sheer rapidity of the transition bothered him, setting off little alarms deep within him. He'd learned a long, long time ago that when things moved too fast, trouble almost always followed. The question in his mind was whether or not Fortaleza was the source of the trouble. Of course, with Blair's track record where trouble was concerned, the trouble could be coming from anywhere. He really wanted to meet the woman, so he could judge for himself.  
  
They had planned on meeting for dinner so that Blair could introduce him to the anthropologist. Unfortunately, there had been that fiasco at the grocery store. Blair had vanished after explaining he needed to help a friend who'd been there and was still shocky from the hostage situation. He should have been there to protect Blair. He hadn't even gotten a word in before Blair had disappeared.  
  
He wondered briefly what had happened to Fortaleza. She had disappeared faster than Blair. He wondered exactly when she'd given Blair the darts. If Fortaleza hadn't given those darts to his Guide, they would probably still be trying to negotiate with the robbers. Or all the hostages would be dead. From the sound of the confused explanations he'd gotten, the robbers had been using Blair and the visiting anthropologist as shields. Jim shuddered at the mere thought of loosing his Guide like that, whether from friendly fire or under a criminal's gun. He'd have to remember to thank her for his Guide's life.  
  
Blair had gone to the station and filled out his report on the store incident, riding with Rafe since Jim had needed to speak to Simon about another case. Then, before Jim could say anything or ask any questions he'd run off, leaving a message saying he needed to see if Connor had been able to calm Fortaleza. Jim had read the report Blair had filed and couldn't believe the sketchiness he found there. The younger man had filled out the bare minimum and then left, promising to finish it on Monday. Definitely not normal, especially for his partner.  
  
The sound of a key in the door made him look up, interrupting his musings. Blair tossed his keys into the basket and shrugged out of his jacket. As soon as it was hung on the rack, he made a beeline to the couch and curled up on it.  
  
"Hi, man." The tired anthropologist murmured before laying his weary head on the armrest. "Sorry about today."  
  
"How's your friend?" Jim let his eyes drift across the younger man, confirming to himself that he was safe. His senses were quietly grounding themselves on his Guide. Touch, smell, hearing, sight, they all locked onto the younger man, resetting themselves. Everything about his Guide was unique and so damn necessary to the Sentinel. Deep inside, the bond between them calmed and firmed -- strengthened.  
  
"AJ? She's fine." Blair's voice was calm as he stirred under the gentle touch of the other man. "Turns out that she doesn't particularly like cops. Brings up bad memories, real bad ones."  
  
Jim didn't respond to that comment. "I'm just glad you got out of there okay.  
  
"Jim..." Blair forced himself to speak. He faced the shuttered blue eyes that peered at him. "I'm fine. Everything worked out."  
  
"Maybe. I want to run a check on Fortaleza."  
  
"You mean you haven't done that already?" Blair was astonished. He thought it was standard procedure at this point."  
  
"No. When I said I trust you I meant it. That means I don't investigate your friends without asking you first." Jim's words were quiet, his face almost too calm. But Blair could see the tightened jaw. "But with your record for choosing women."  
  
"AJ just got here, Jim. She didn't cause that heist. I'm not interested in her as anything more than a colleague."  
  
"Right, Chief. I know you. Sooner or later you'll start dating her and then..."  
  
"Jim!" Blair was indignant. "I don't think about sex and relationships all of the time. Listen to me, man. Between AJ and me there is just no chemistry. None. Nada. Zip. And if it isn't there, nothing is going to happen."  
  
"Fine. I believe you, Chief. But if it ever comes to that point, I want to know."  
  
"I promise I'll talk to you first. Happy?"  
  
Jim's only response was to throw a pillow at the younger man. Tired as Blair was, he still had enough energy to lob it back at his sentinel.  
  
  
  
A growl awakened her. Sitting up, AJ reached for the knife she had left by the bed. When she saw the two visitors she closed her eyes. Reopening them, she met the spirit animal's gazes. They glared at her, menacingly.  
  
"Go away." she muttered at them.  
  
The wolf bared its teeth at her. The panther coughed menacingly.  
  
"I'm not here for them." AJ whispered, bringing her empty hands to her lap. "The prophesies say I have to be here. It's time."  
  
Both animals growled, but it was no longer at her.  
  
"I'm no threat. I won't be telling anyone about the Shaman or the Guardian. You have my oath."  
  
Satisfied the two large animals turned away and walked into the wall. She watched them go before getting out of bed. Moving slowly in the dim moonlight she went to her bags and pulled out a heavily decorated bag. Using only her memory and her sense of smell, she opened packets of herbs. It was time to begin a purification ceremony. With the first step in her quest taken, the easy part was over.  
  
"Santificado fui, santificado soy, santificado siempre sere." Her words were soft as she lit the incense. 


	4. Weather Worries

Friday, 02 October 1998, Rainier University  
  
The E-mail chime rang on Blair's computer. The anthropology student looked over, wondering if it was another missive from Rover S. In the weeks since they first started cooresponding, the researcher had been very regular about sending information that Blair could use to help his Sentinel. Sometimes the information was just a list of ideas that, according to Rover S, had been brainstormed by a local group that met in London to discuss sensitive senses. At other times, the information they sent just happened to be exactly what he needed to deal with a problem he was having with Jim. He glanced at the clock and yielded to the temptation. He opened his E- mail to find a new note from the research group.  
  
Mr. Sandburg,  
  
Here are the latest test results on sensitivity from my friends in London. I hope that it proves useful to your research. Also, included is a file from a French monograph on 'guardian spirits'. It seems to deal with the subject you are researching. If it is what you need, we will send you a copy of the original and of the translations. Your idea to have the perfumier use meditation and visualization to control his sense of smell worked.  
  
Thank you.  
  
Rover S  
  
  
  
He chuckled. He'd been keeping track of the debates raging on Rover's research chat for the past week. When one of the researchers asked for help, he'd E-mailed Rover S directly, rather than enter the discussion. None of the others mentioned or suggested having the overwhelmed man visualize dials to control his sense of smell. He was happy to have helped the man who'd helped him so much. He quickly opened the attached file and began reading. Maybe there would be some ideas he could use on Jim. His alarm clock went off. Still grinning, he filed the new mail, shut down the computer, and grabbed his backpack.  
  
Even with his lightened schedule, he found himself running late. He'd missed too many hours with Fortaleza. To Jim's amusement and delight, no matter what time he showed up, she kicked him out at the end of his normal 'hours'. According to the sentinel, she had to have a heart of pure Teflon, his pleading just slid right off her determination. Today, he was going to be on time... it wasn't like he was in the middle of a hot case at the station. He was just doing his own research; it wasn't even something he could put into his diss. A quick glance at the clock spurred him out the door.  
  
  
  
Later that afternoon, Rainier University Apartments  
  
"Hey, Sandburg?" The rhythmic accent caressed his ears. He looked up and a flash of light caught him unawares. Her voice tickled his ears again. "Thanks."  
  
"What was that for?" he muttered.  
  
"You said I could take pictures whenever I wanted. I wanted to get one of you busy and happy with your research."  
  
"My eyes were closed."  
  
"Only for the one with the flash. The others were at a very fast speed. When I'm done, you get a set."  
  
"Is there any particular reason for them?"  
  
"Not really. Although, I could use them as a journal of the set up for the show. I just like to shoot and you take wonderful pictures."  
  
He sighed in disgust and looked at the crate beside her. He had yet to see any of her pictures, but he knew better than to argue with her about them. Like most avid practitioners, she was rabid about her hobby. "Are you done with that crate yet?"  
  
"All done and ready to go to the museum." She hauled the heavy crate to where he had the show plates. She looked over his sketches for the displays. "How is that going? Do you need any help there?"  
  
"No, it's going fine. Do you want to go see it? I could show you around tomorrow."  
  
"You don't work weekends, remember? That time is reserved for Jim and the PD." Her pale green eyes flickered over him briefly.  
  
"Maybe on Monday afternoon, then?" Blair felt the sadness weaving its way through the room. In the past two weeks, AJ had been getting quieter and sadder. It was almost as if she feared another panic attack or something worse. He'd tried getting her to talk about it only to meet up with a wall that would even impress Jim. Once she decided not to talk, she didn't speak a word.  
  
She refused to go out often. Only the classes she'd promised to help with and the work in the museum got her out of the apartment. He'd spoken to the photography professor and learned she'd actually been going with them on their photo excursions, so she had been off campus briefly.  
  
She'd turned the comfortable living room into an office, staying there during all of her free time unless he managed to tease her outside to walk around the campus. The only thing that seemed to give her any joy was planning the museum display. Sometimes he felt like she was hiding something from him, but he hadn't been able to pin it down yet. "You need to get out. Why don't you come to the loft this weekend? Jim said he wouldn't mind you coming over. He wants to meet you."  
  
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm fine." When he began pulling artifacts out of the crate, she stopped him. Instead she handed him a colorful paper box. "These are the first of the pictures I promised you."  
  
His hands trembled as he lifted the lid. Instinctively, he knew that he would like the contents. She'd promised to give him a copy of every photo she took of him or his friends. If they didn't like the picture, she would never show it.  
  
Inside the box were well over two hundred photographs. He didn't know she'd taken so many. They were separated into groups by index cards. Each card listed the date, the time and the location where the picture had been shot. Then it listed the pictures by number, giving the names of the subjects. He was awed by them as he went through the box. He'd known that A.J. was a semi-professional photographer, but this was beyond his expectations.  
  
He scanned through the box, enjoying the lighthearted scenes from campus. There were also several that had been obviously taken with the photography lab group. The life and livelihood of the people of Cascade were shown in a whimsical style that brought a grin to his lips. Then he froze. Blair stared in shock at one particular set of pictures. Stylistically, it didn't fit with the others, almost as if it were another person's photo. They completely caught him by surprise with their imagery.  
  
He remembered the situation clearly, as it had only occurred the week before. He had not realized the photo class had been nearby, but it made an odd kind of sense. After all, the plaza had been crowded even for the day and the situation. He would never have noticed the small group of students among the larger group of curious onlookers.  
  
Somehow, in the aftermath of a bad bank hostage situation, AJ had managed the impossible. The picture was a perfect shot of the scene. Four large men clustered around two smaller figures, all smiling. The two figures were holding onto each other, trying hard not to fall down laughing.  
  
Almost everyone from the Major Crimes department was present, only Rafe was missing. He had been tied up in court that day. He had missed the whole thing and would completely stunned by the fact that neither Jim nor Blair had been hurt. Now he had the proof. He stared at the picture.  
  
Megan's laughter could almost be heard rising from the picture. Blair's eyes were closed as he leaned into her embrace. The men around them were obviously enjoying the laughter of their two comrades. Jim stood directly behind Blair, his eyes watchful even as he joined in their laughter. The other three big men, Joel, Simon and Henry, were much more active in their enjoyment of the situation. All of them were touching Blair, reassuring themselves of his safety, the fact that he had actually gotten out without injury.  
  
"Oh, man! This is great!" He felt his eyes water as he absorbed the power of the picture. "It seems like you can hear our thoughts, the words we said, the joke itself. Megan can really rip out those one liners. Can you get copies? The guys would love to have some."  
  
"Already done." A.J.'s voice was softer than normal. She set a small stack of frames down beside him. On each frame was a descriptive tag.  
  
As he began going through the pile, she stood and walked away. Blair nearly choked when he saw that they were all signed, K.A.J, with the distinctive square cage around the initials that was his trademark. In the past weeks, the woman had very gently sidestepped any question about the elusive photographer. Only the fact that the style of the photographs was so very different from what she usually took, convinced him that they weren't hers. "AJ? These are signed... I mean, Cage is here? In Cascade?"  
  
"Cage was here then. We didn't know their names, so when I saw you in the picture I figured you could get releases for the others. Cage agreed to the same deal that we have between us. If they don't like the shot, it won't go in the next book." AJ was pale, tense, staring out the window. She continued quietly. "Could you please take them to the police department for us?"  
  
Blair watched her, pensively. He had the feeling that this was a test. "I could take you to the station and introduce you to them. Then you can ask. . ." he paused as she shook her head. "But, you should be the one to give them out to the guys. They'll love them."  
  
"No, Blair. If you won't take them in, they'll just stay here." She sighed and turned around, leaning on the windowsill. A very small smile crept across her face and she shook her head. Fear edged her voice. "I don't like the city too much. I will not go across it if I don't have to do so. Cage doesn't like the idea of trying to track down police officers; it might give them the wrong idea. Please, Blair."  
  
"Okay, I'll take them in and hand them out to the guys." Blair felt like there was something he should be doing. Something to help her. The only thing he could think of was to cooperate for now. He knew it wasn't fear of the city that kept her from going to the station. He smiled, looking down at the picture before him. "Thanks for this. It's perfect."  
  
Fortaleza smiled, relaxing as she took in his genuine approval. Her voice was calm again, happy for a moment. Blair noted to himself that, for a rare moment, even her eyes were smiling. "You are very welcome."  
  
  
  
Sunday 04 October, Rainier University.  
  
AJ looked around the campus, slowly breathing in the cold night air. Something was wrong -- very, very wrong. If only she could put her finger on it. The feeling was growing, like an irrational cold spot on her spine, it wouldn't let her alone. Tonight was Sukkoth, and she should feel the calm that normally came from that ancient Hebrew festival. Instead, she found herself out on the porch staring out onto the full moon, waiting.  
  
Things were going awry. Things that should never have been allowed to be changed had been switched around until she could barely see the original plan anymore. Too many little things were out of place. By now she should have been able to locate the centro de los sacrificios but she had found nothing. But then again, she wasn't 100% comfortable in Cascade. That could be the problem, after all she hadn't found any proof of trouble. Nothing to prove Ese's contention that the cults were moving into Cascade. And none of the groups searching the rest of the state had found anything either.  
  
If she were in the Yucatan she would understand her tension. This was the year, the final year of waiting and preparing - for the predictions to either be fulfilled or ignored. In another location, her fears wouldn't be so laughable. Here they seemed far away and easily ignored until the chills began running up her spine and the nightmares began again.  
  
It was too close to the start of the season of sacrifice for her to be this tense. Her nerves were stretched too tight, her dreams too ephemeral for her to decipher their warnings. Everything was too close to the edge, and Sandburg was still too close to the target zone for her tastes. Either they had the wrong city and nothing was going to happen in Cascade, or the players were so far underground she'd never see them until it was too late.  
  
The package she had been expecting had been delayed again. First, in Mexico, the authorities had decided it needed to wait until the situation there settled down a little. Then, the people who were supposed to deliver it, cancelled. Cancelled? Backed out and ran was more like it, refusing to explain why or what had happened. So she had to find another way around that problem. The only people she felt she could trust with the consignment were people she did not want anywhere near those artifacts. She didn't believe in tempting the fates.  
  
A pair of her note disks had disappeared. Maybe Sandburg had moved them and she would find them in the morning. He was usually careful about stuff like that, but maybe this time, he hadn't noticed. Or maybe he'd accidentally taken them with him. She'd have to call him and ask. Even though she doubted he would understand their importance or the language she'd used for her notes, she didn't like them being out of place. If any of her telltales had been moved, she might think someone had taken them. But who would know which unmarked disks to take?  
  
With a grunt, AJ dropped from her balcony, landing lightly on the brittle grass. She grimaced at the cold before shrugging and running over to the tall trees in the yard. Finding a densely needled fir tree she rapidly climbed up it, searching for a place to rest. Once she was situated, she wrapped herself in the thermal blanket she'd bought before making the final knot in the rope holding her to the tree. Now, maybe, she'd be able to sleep. It had been too long since she'd gotten a full nights' sleep. Maybe in this precarious spot she wouldn't dream.  
  
  
  
  
  
Jim woke suddenly. With the quiet moves of a predator, he slipped from the bed without making a sound. Pausing only to grab his pistol from the nightstand, the sentinel carefully paced through the loft. He carefully checked every window, every lock, his senses extended, looking for the intruder, the feeling grating on his nerves. Nothing. He could find no reason at all to be up. He growled to himself and jumped as he heard it echoed. He turned to face his spirit guide. It too felt the tension in the air.  
  
"Jim?" Blair's voice was more asleep than awake as the young man peered out of his room. The younger man watched him pace in front of the balcony doors. "What's wrong?"  
  
Jim looked over at his spirit guide. It was looking out the glass doors, growling deep in its throat. "I don't know, Chief. It feels almost like a storm is coming, only it's not a storm."  
  
The panther hissed before turning to stalk up to the loft bedroom. With another quick glance around the room, Jim followed it up the stairs. He shrugged to himself, deciding that it was nothing.  
  
  
  
Thursday 08 October. Rainier University  
  
"Go on, you'll enjoy it. I promise." Blair wheedled and teased. As he watched, AJ's face finally softened and she nodded. It had taken him all week to convince her. All right, he acknowledged to himself, it was more like wear her down with his wheedling, than convince her. "Take your camera, too. The October Festival is full of neat things for pictures."  
  
"If I don't like it, I'll leave." AJ growled.  
  
"You sound like Jim." He laughed at her. "I didn't know you still had this." He handed her the now mended green parka. When he saw the embroidered patch on the shoulder he frowned.  
  
"I fixed it, Sandburg. It's good as new." She smiled at his look. "The coat protected me. If I hadn't been wearing it, he might have shot me instead. Have to take care of the protector. You should know that."  
  
Blair paled and looked over at the green eyes watching him. There was no way she could mean what he thought she meant, could she? She hadn't even met Jim yet. His mind began racing, Fortaleza knew a lot about the South American tribes, but did she know about sentinels? It had to be a slip, a link his own mind was making, not a probe by her. It had to be.  
  
"Blair? Blair? What did I say?" Concern edged the soft voice, as a hand gently stroked his jaw. "Come on, wake up."  
  
"Huh? Oh, sorry, I just thought of something." Blair was flustered. AJ was so close, eyes staring at him, curiously. Worry was evident in every move she made. It was very rare for her to be in his personal space; she avoided any unnecessary contact to the point of sheer avoidance. He shook his head, trying to think of a distraction. "I mean there are just so many ways to ..."  
  
She put her camera bag down and laid the parka over it. "I'm sorry for whatever I did."  
  
"Hey, it's not your fault. I just... my mind has been working on something and it finally came up with a solution..." AJ watched him for a moment before turning away. Blair's hand caught her shoulder. "Give me a moment to write it down and I can take you over to meet the others."  
  
"Are you sure? I can always take the bus. Kathy said it wasn't hard to get there."  
  
"It isn't. I really think it's great that you're going. You'll love it. I always did." Blair's voice was ecstatic, as he began describing the fair.  
  
"Are you going to it this year?" AJ asked quietly, watching him closely again. "The professor said there is space left on the van. I could ask him to let you ride with us."  
  
"Nah. I'm going to be busy. Jim and I are working on this really tough robbery case and if we get done before the weekend is here, we might take off to the mountains." The anthropologist smiled happily at the thought. Jim had been pleased by the idea when Blair had mentioned it that morning.  
  
"Your roommate wouldn't go to the fair with you?" She was curious. If it was so culturally important for her to go, why wasn't Blair disappointed about not going? Inside her mind, tumblers were clicking into place. Yes, please let it be, let him be fully and totally bonded to a sentinel, let his roommate be Enqueri. That would make them both be safe from the coming nightmare. Then maybe the nightmares will stop. Her thoughts were much closer to a prayer than she liked.  
  
"Jim? In a crowd? I don't think so." Blair had to smile at the thought. He thought about his sentinel's reaction to the sights, the sounds, the odors. No, that was not something he wanted to subject his roommate to, not even if it meant he had to give up the fair. "He avoids things like the festival like they are the plague. If I asked, he'd go, but it's not that important to me."  
  
"Your detective sounds like my kind of person."  
  
"Then why don't you come over tomorrow? You could have dinner with us. I know he would like to meet you." Blair watched as she paled. Every single time. Damn, he really thought they would get along. Both of them so reclusive at times, both quiet and still just before throwing him completely off the thread of his thoughts with a single comment. They probably knew some of the same tribesmen from Peru. The Chopec weren't the only group Jim's unit had worked with. Before their last mission, they had been known as a good training unit, working well with the natives. At least, that's what he'd dug up about them.  
  
"I don't think that would be the greatest of ideas, Blair." Her voice was soft. "I have nothing against him, but he's . . ."  
  
"AJ cops are good people. Jim's one of the best people you could ask to meet."  
  
"NO." The edge of fear in her voice was hard and icy. "I just can't meet him, not yet. Are we going to go or not?"  
  
"Yeah, we can go." Blair's voice was low, his guide voice coming into play as he tried to calm her fears. Every time he brought up the subject of her meeting Jim or the guys at the station, she reacted badly. Part of him, the insatiably curious part, wanted to know what made her so distrustful. The other part, the one that had seen far too much as a police observer, counseled him that he didn't want to ask. Not now and not ever. "If we leave now, I can drop you off at the van. That way you can ride with the Kathy and the professor."  
  
AJ silently picked up her coat and put it on. The two of them left, the silence between them heavy.  
  
  
  
Thursday afternoon, Cascade PD, Major Crimes Unit  
  
The late afternoon sun poured through the windows, largely ignored by the detectives as they filled out paperwork. They had finally caught the men involved in the jewelry store robberies and were trying to complete the paperwork so they could leave. There was a brief flurry of sound as a detective arrived.  
  
"Hey, Rafe's back!" Blair called out as he entered in the room with the young detective.  
  
"How'd it go, man?" Brown asked, a big smile on his face. The fact that his partner had been in court in another jurisdiction for the past week and a half grated at him.  
  
"Tayler got 15-20." His partner smiled back. Then he caught a glimpse of the framed picture on Brown's desk. Rafe's eyes widened as he recognized the people in the photograph and the signature. "What did I miss? You got a signed photo by Cage?"  
  
"Yeah, he caught us after a bank robbery." Jim grinned at the stunned look on the detective's face. "Didn't you know that Sandburg is working with Cage's friend Fortaleza?"  
  
The detective looked over at the anthropologist. "No. No one told me anything."  
  
"Well, um... I didn't know Cage was in town until AJ gave me the photos last week." Blair was embarrassed by the scrutiny. "If she'd told me he was in town, I would have told you."  
  
"Yeah, right." Brown's chuckle was echoed by the other detectives. "You can be the most closed mouth in the country when you don't want to talk about something. You just skirt around the issue and..."  
  
Simon opened the door of his office, face grim. The detectives and anthropologist froze at the look on their captain's face. "We've got some kids climbing on the harbor bridge, overlooking Octoberfest. Everyone is needed for crowd control and assistance."  
  
The bullpen emptied rapidly as the men and women raced for the stairs. Around them, other officers were racing out of their offices and heading for their cars.  
  
  
  
  
  
Blair looked up at the bridge, noting the height and the location of the kids on the high spans. He paled and swallowed. Behind him, Joel Taggart cursed quietly and gripped his shoulder in reassurance.  
  
"You okay, Chief?" Jim's voice was gentle, as he looked over at his partner. He looked away, thinking he'd seen more movement. Someone else was climbing the bridge. "Aw, shit. We've got a hero on his way up already."  
  
Simon looked up, trying to see the person and frowned. The sun was at the worst possible angle for the men on the ground to see anything, nearly blinding him as he looked up. "Are you sure, Jim? I can barely see the kids up there, much less anyone else."  
  
The Sentinel glanced over at the captain and nodded. He looked up again, watching as the small figure adjusted his grip on the metal spar before swinging himself to the next spar. "He's got a lot of rope tied to his waist. Looks like he has a couple of harnesses too."  
  
"Excuse me, officers?" A woman interrupted their conversation. The detectives turned as one. An older woman and three young men stood quietly, holding boxes of climbing equipment. "Are you the Major Crimes division? We were told that a Detective Ellison was to receive these boxes. They're already paid for and the man up there, said as a Ranger you'd know how to use what's in them."  
  
"What the..." Simon stuttered in surprise. "Jim?"  
  
Jim opened the first box and smiled grimly. All of the equipment was brand new, still in its packaging. He pulled out a harness and opened the plastic. He ran his sense of smell and touch over the heavy weight canvas. It was undamaged and untouched. "Did he give a name?"  
  
"No, sir. He ran into my shop and told me to pack up enough for eight men, only stuff that was still bagged. He tossed more than enough cash on the counter to pay for it. Then he took a set for himself, and told me to call the police and report that kids were playing on the bridge." The woman looked a bit dazed. The young man beside her whispered something. "The man left his camera on the counter when he grabbed the equipment he took with him."  
  
Brown pulled the camera out of a box and looked at the name embroidered on the strap. He read it aloud before handing it to the anthropologist. "K.A.J. Well, looks like the man is still in town."  
  
Simon and the others began strapping on climbing harnesses. "Has the fire department arrived yet?"  
  
"The fire chief says even the longest of their ladders won't reach that high." Rafe spoke into his cell phone and looked back up at the bridge. "The winds are picking up and the police chopper can't get near the top without risking hitting the wires."  
  
"Looks like we're going up." Simon looked over his team. Major Crimes was not always what it seemed. Some days they seemed to be more of a special op.'s unit than a police unit, and today was one of those days. "Sandburg, stay on the ground."  
  
"But..."  
  
"That's an order, Sandburg." The big black man looked down on the shorter anthropologist. "Megan will partner Jim on this one. I don't want you climbing this bridge."  
  
The mutinous look on the anthropologist's face was broken by the hand that descended on his shoulder.  
  
Jim whispered quietly to his Guide. "Stay here. Please, Chief. Megan can keep an eye on me. You can talk to me from here and I'll still hear you."  
  
  
  
  
  
"Ellison," Megan's voice called from the side of the bridge. Nearly an hour of climbing and they were barely half way to the top of the span. "It looks like that guy caught up to one of the kids."  
  
He focused his eyes on the figures on the beams above them. A young teenager whispered to the man holding his arm. The man's movements were fast, sure, and steady. He wrapped a harness around the boy's waist. With deft moves, he slung a rope around the I-beam they were leaning on, tying it tightly in place.  
  
Jim focused his hearing on what they were saying. "My name is Cage, what's yours?"  
  
"Mark. What are you putting this on me for?"  
  
"Well, this will hold you, keep you from falling until the police get up here."  
  
"I have to go get Tony."  
  
When the teenager tried to move away, the man swiftly tied his hands behind him. He moved fast, finishing his work and double-checking it before turning to look up the bridge. "No, Mark. You need to stay put, the police will get you down from here. I'll go after your friend."  
  
"Tony wants to jump. I promised Mom nothing would happen to him."  
  
The man spoke again. "You stay here, I'll catch your Tony."  
  
"They promised him he would live forever..." The boy's words made the man freeze momentarily. Then, his back still towards the sentinel, Cage began climbing again. This time, instead of working steadily, the man seemed to be racing, jumping from spar to spar, making leaps that wrung gasps from the onlookers.  
  
Jim cursed and grabbed the next metal strut. He had a bad feeling about this. Ahead of him, Megan and Simon climbed. The other teams of police officers and rescuers scaling the bridge's girder system, began to head for the tied down teenager, leaving the two still climbing to those from Major Crimes.  
  
  
  
Blair and Taggart watched from the ground. The two men held binoculars to their eyes as their friends got farther away. Under his breath, the Guide whispered encouragement to his Sentinel. He wanted to be with him, but didn't want to be in the way. Everyone in the department knew about his fear of heights and no one would be able to keep their minds on their jobs if he was up there with them.  
  
"You okay, Blair?" The softly spoken words startled him, breaking into the almost silent whispers he had been murmuring to Jim. If his Sentinel wanted him to talk from the ground, talk he would. He turned to meet Joel's eyes. His first friend among the detectives, Joel always kept an eye on the anthropologist.  
  
"Yeah, Joel. I'm just worried about them." He nodded up at the men and women climbing the steel girders.  
  
  
  
A radio crackled. Simon's voice came over the speaker. "Take it easy, son. I'm Captain Banks."  
  
"The man went after my brother. He said he'd catch Tony." The boy's voice was barely audible.  
  
"Where is your brother trying to go?" Banks' voice was gentle even over the radio.  
  
"He wants to fly." The boy's voice broke. "He doesn't understand he can't fly."  
  
"Connor, you and Ellison keep going." Blair and Joel focused their binoculars on the group forming on the boy's girder. "I'll stay here with him until someone can help me get him down."  
  
Blair focused his glasses above the group. He whispered, hoping the Sentinel was listening. "Jim, the other boy has stopped. So has Cage."  
  
"Connor, move! Tony stopped." Jim's voice came over the radio as he realized the significance of Blair's words. The boy was about to jump. The Australian woman began moving faster, closely followed by the detective.  
  
Jim could see beyond Megan to the rapid movements of Cage's gloved hands tying ropes to the girders. Even higher, the calm face of the boy peering down at them made him frown. The boy was too calm, too content. His eyes were wide, as they watched curiously as officers and civilian raced for his perch.  
  
Even as Jim reached for the next grip, he saw the decision in the boy's eyes and heard Cage's frustrated growl as he hurried, tying the ropes as fast as he could. The boy's legs flexed as he jumped. Ten feet below him a curse colored the air and the dark clad man dove, arms reaching for the boy.  
  
"Oh, my god!" Connor's words were whispered as she froze, watching the midair ballet.  
  
The man's arms wrapped around the boy, the ropes unfolding from the coil tied to the bridge. The boy struggled, but the man was stronger, quickly fastening a harness around both of them. Moments later the ropes drew tight, catching the falling pair and jerking them to a stop. The rope began a slow, twisting swing as the two began a deadly struggle for control. Only the Sentinel could hear the gasps of pain from them as the combination of ropes and harness pulled against ribs. He also heard the almost inaudible snap as a rib yielded to the pressure.  
  
"No!" The boy cried out in fury, fighting against his savior. He head butted the man, before driving his fist into his savior's side.  
  
The silent struggle was sadly uneven, the boy's first hit having stunned his captor. The Sentinel watched as the boy struck at the man again, hearing the faint, sickening snap as another bone let go. The man fell away and hung limply from his harness, trying to catch his breath. As he fought off the pain and shock of the blow, the boy began working his way free from the complicated harness.  
  
Green eyes met Jim's without comprehension as the two swung closer to the bridge and the watching police officers. They blinked, barely registering his presence before turning to look at the boy who was struggling to release the harness about his waist. Cage reached down and wrapped himself around the boy, arms and legs pinning the boy still. Jim barely heard the man's one whispered word. "Hurry."  
  
Ellison pulled on the rope he'd fastened to the bridge and glanced down. Cage had locked himself in place, still holding the boy over the harbor. From the sound of the man's breathing, that broken rib was causing him problems and he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. If the sentinel wasn't down there in time both could end up plunging into the icy water. From this height, neither of them would survive.  
  
"Connor, are you ready?" Jim looked over to Megan. The Australian was crouched at the edge of the girder, firmly tied in place. She nodded, holding his rope steady.  
  
"I'm going after the boy." He spoke over the radio clipped to his collar. Below him the man looked up again, his eyes watching patiently as the detective rappelled down to where he held the boy.  
  
"I'm Detective Ellison." He looked over the man. A black baklava covered most of his face, protecting it from the gusts of wind that blew them about. The green eyes met his again, pain reflected deeply in them. "How are you doing?"  
  
"Make him let me go!" Tony's voice was harsh and frantic. The boy began struggling again. "I want to be let go!"  
  
The man's eyes closed against the pain and even under the heavy sweater he wore, Jim could see the strain as he tightened his grip. He drew out his handcuffs and slipped one cuff around the boy's wrist. Two pairs of startled eyes looked up at him as he locked the boy to his own wrist. "Tony, we're getting you down from here."  
  
"Thank you." K.A.J.'s whisper was still soft, fighting the pain of his broken ribs. The man shifted the boy in his grip, turning him closer to Jim. He studied the situation, the mulish look on the boy's face and the grim look on the detective's. "I'll tie him to you. That way you can get down safely."  
  
"Do it." Jim watched as the man carefully moved, grabbing the last coil of rope on his belt and wrapping it around the boy's waist. He tied it tightly and then swung close to the detective, fastening it to Jim's harness. Then, certain that the boy couldn't fall free, K.A.J. gingerly unclipped the boy's harness from his own and attached it to the detective's. Once the boy was firmly tied him, Jim spoke again. "The key is in my pocket. I'll need my hands free. Cuff his arms around me."  
  
The other man looked up, startled at the order. His eyes narrowed considering the instructions. After a moment's thought, he quickly found the key and shifted the cuffs so the boy was cuffed with his arms around the detective. "Okay. You can get him down now."  
  
"How are you going to get down? You don't have a D-ring and you're out of rope," Jim noted, as Cage released his hold on the boy.  
  
"I'll be fine, detective. I'll see you on the ground." There was a brief smile and then the man began swinging, building momentum. Only the man's desperate grip on the rope betrayed his pain as the harness dug into his side. It took several swings before the man reached the spar he had been aiming for. As soon as he pulled himself onto the bridge, a police officer headed for him. Jim watched silently as the officer supported the photographer, helping him begin a slow descent to the ground.  
  
"Well, Tony, I guess it's our turn." The sullen boy just grunted at Jim's comment. He shifted his grip on the rope, releasing the brake-hold and began the long slide down. A moment later, the boy shrieked as he realized how fast they were heading for the ground.  
  
On the ground, both the detective and the boy were surrounded by rescue personnel. The crowd protected the two from the gathered reporters. At the same time, it gave K.A.J the chance to slip away from the police officers who flanked him all the way down the bridge.  
  
  
  
Late evening Thursday, Cascade PD, Major Crimes unit.  
  
"Ellison!" Simon called from his office door. "I need to speak to you and Sandburg!"  
  
The two men looked at each other and shrugged. Closing the file he was working on, the Sentinel stood, waiting for his partner. Blair saved the report he was entering into the computer and headed for Simon's office.  
  
"Did either of you talk to Cage after he got down from the bridge?" The captain stood facing the window, his posture tense.  
  
"No, sir." The detective tensed, noting the tension in his superior. "What happened?"  
  
"He disappeared. Told the officer who was with him that he was going to have the paramedics look at his side. They never saw him."  
  
"He was hurt, Simon. It sounded like a couple of his ribs broke when he was on that rope with the kid." Jim was certain of what he'd heard. "He was having trouble breathing."  
  
"Well, he didn't see the paramedics on site. I've checked the hospitals and he hasn't gone to any of them."  
  
"What's going on Simon? Why are you hunting down Cage?" Blair asked, worry crossing his face.  
  
"According to the witnesses, he was taking pictures of the bridge when he saw the boys climbing it. He was the first person to realize what it meant." Simon sighed and turned around, looking tired. "The mother says he must have put them up to it. She filed charges against him and the entire police force."  
  
"But Cage isn't ..." Blair's voice trailed off. " I mean, he wouldn't ..."  
  
"We know that Sandburg. But the mother says he must have done it for the publicity. She wants to charge him with child endangerment." Simon did not look happy about the situation. "Everyone there saw the kid try to jump. No way Cage paid him to do that. It's not even the first time he's pulled this kind of stunt. It seems the boy is, um, well as his mother put it, simple. He can be talked into just about anything. This is the first one that would have definitely been fatal."  
  
There was a knock on the door of Simon's office. "Come in."  
  
"Captain Banks?" A young officer entered with a file in his hand. "This is for you, sir."  
  
"Thank you." Simon glanced over the papers curiously and paused. Then he grinned. "The brother's statement says it was someone else who told Tony he could fly. Now, it's just a case of trying to round up all the stray ends on this one, gentlemen. Including Mr. Cage's statement. Sandburg, you told me that he wasn't in town when you brought the photographs. Can you reach him?" The captain asked quietly. "Now?"  
  
Blair raised an eyebrow and went over to the phone. Quickly he dialed a number from memory. He listened quietly to the message on the machine that answered. "AJ, this is Blair. Could you call me at 555 4747 or my cell phone? It's really important."  
  
"Fortaleza's not there?" Ellison's voice was curious. He thought the other anthropologist was always at her apartment.  
  
"Today was the first time I actually convinced her to go out and have fun. She's at the Octoberfest. I thought she'd enjoy it; the people, the cultural exchange, the lack of police officers. So, what happens? Her partner gets to play hero." Blair's smile was wry at their expressions. "I mean, she really needed to get out of her apartment. She's been on two photo shoots with a class and that's it. Otherwise, she's always working on the exhibit."  
  
The phone rang. Before Simon could reach for it, Blair grabbed it. "Captain Banks' office, Blair Sandburg answering... Hi, AJ" He hit the conference button, motioning the others to be quiet. "Look, is there any way you could have Cage call?"  
  
"No, I'm not sure how to reach him right now." At the sound of her voice, Jim stilled, his head tilting.  
  
"Are you sure?" Blair asked, quietly.  
  
"Is there a problem, Blair?" There was an audible catch in her voice. "Is he in trouble?"  
  
"No, he's not in trouble. Do you know about the bridge thing?" Blair paused as she murmured that she knew about it. "We were just worried about him. It kinda looked like he was hurt. And the ..."  
  
"The policía want him to fill out one of their papers?" There was almost a smile in her voice. "I will tell him to contact your police department if I hear from him. Will that be acceptable to your roommate?"  
  
"I guess it will have to be..." Hanging up the phone he looked at the two men. They were staring at him, waiting impatiently. "Well, what else could I tell her?"  
  
"She's not telling you everything, Chief." Jim's voice was quiet. "Her heart rate spiked when you asked about the photographer, when she told you he'd left, and again when she said he wasn't hurt."  
  
"You were listening to her heart rate over the phone?" The police observer raised his eyebrows in amazement. "You didn't tell me you could do that. I mean, I know if I'm on the phone you can listen to my heart rate, but you're over there and..."  
  
"I don't do it that often, Chief." Jim's voice was contrite. He didn't want to give Blair the wrong idea. "I hadn't tried like this before."  
  
"So, what do you think it means?" Blair asked, watching the two detectives.  
  
Simon frowned. "Well, as much as she seems to dislike the police, I wouldn't worry about her covering for her friend. Did you ever ask Megan about the afternoon she spent getting Fortaleza's statement?" The captain chuckled at their confusion. "I'll let her tell you about it. It was definitely an enlightening experience. It also helped that she'd heard about Fortaleza's phobia in the outback."  
  
"Megan knew about it before she met her?" Blair's voice was incredulous. "As in, they'd met before?"  
  
"No, Sandburg, they hadn't met. However, Fortaleza helped the locals round up a group of artifact hunters as well as some poachers while she was in Australia." Simon grinned at the look on the younger man's face. "It seems that both Fortaleza and Cage made quite an impression on the local police departments. In fact, it was such an impression that Megan never forgot any of the details. Including the fact that Fortaleza held a couple of the poachers at bay for hours but nearly fainted as soon as the uniformed officers arrived."  
  
"Oh, man. That's a pretty strong phobia." The wide blue eyes winced at the thought.  
  
"You're leaving something out Simon. What is it?" The curiosity in Blair's face brought a smile to both detectives' faces.  
  
"One of the rookies arrested Fortaleza and she was jailed overnight before anyone realized who she was. She still hadn't spoken a word when they finally ID'd her. After that, she and Cage disappeared for nearly a week, refusing to talk to anyone. The press camped out at the police station, thinking that the local cops made them disappear."  
  
"Ouch." Even Jim winced at the thought of that one. "No way she'd even try to talk Cage into coming in to fill out paperwork. Maybe one on one, in a neutral environment."  
  
"I just wanted to make certain nothing like that happens again." Simon sipped at his coffee. "The boys' mother was yelling threats about suing everyone involved. If anything had happened to Fortaleza's friend, I was hoping she'd tell Sandburg."  
  
"She didn't seem upset for Cage, just about being questioned about him," Jim thought about it for a moment. Then he flashed smiled at his Guide. "I don't think you need to worry about Cage. The lady is pretty protective of him."  
  
  
  
  
  
The same time, Fortaleza's apartment, Rainier University  
  
A.J. fingered the taped ribs, wincing at the differences in color between her fingers and the blue bruises showing above the white bandages. A couple of weeks and they would heal. With practiced ease she laced a heavy brace together. The pieces, once complete, would be further protection to both the cracked ribs and the broken one. As she struggled with placing the brace correctly without causing further damage or pain, she noticed that her hands were nearly as pale as the brace itself. Too much time inside, and not enough time outside.  
  
Not a big deal. Not compared to what had been accomplished. If, when she returned to the tribes, she was as pale as when she first got there, they would understand. Her job here was twofold, but both parts were simple enough: protect the Guide and his Sentinel, and stop the sacrifices. Nothing else mattered, she had to remember that.  
  
As long as she did her job, nothing else mattered. Not her health, not anyone else's.  
  
She thought back to what she'd learned that afternoon. She had checked on Tony at the hospital, she had to find out who put him up to this. Unfortunately, no one knew who it had been. The boy had never been given a name and in his own way had been unable to describe them. All his mother and brother knew was that someone convinced Tony that he could fly, but only if he flew from the bridge today. Specifically, this afternoon while the sun was shining on the bay below the bridge. It wasn't his fault he believed what he had been told. They chose well -- an innocent volunteer. According to the tablets, Tloloc's volunteer had been scheduled for today, to start the full series of sacrifices. The water god wanted innocents for his sacrifice, and who was more innocent than poor, gentle Tony, who believed he could fly.  
  
She shook herself free of the morbid thoughts. The boy was safe. With the help of the Cascade PD, they had negated the first possible sacrifices. Now that this part of the entire series had been stopped, maybe she could get the whole thing stopped before it began. Of course, there was the chance that she just pushed them underground. She forced herself to remember the possibilities she needed to research to keep from being surprised again. 


	5. Storm Warnings

Chapter 4 Storm Warnings. 

Rainier University, Friday, 02 October 

AJ glared at her computer. Resolutely, she typed in a new search. After a moment she paused, waiting for the response. When it came up blank she cursed, soft, clipped words that slid from one language to the next as she vented her frustration. She tilted her head, catching the sound of the door opening. She closed down her computer. 

"Heyla, Sandburg. You're early today." In a smooth movement she turned to face him. "I thought you were going to be busy today, finishing paperwork at the station?" 

"Morning, Sunshine." Blair yawned as he walked over to her desk. "I have to go out on a stakeout tonight. It's a last minute thing. Brown slipped at the bridge last night and is laid up, so we're covering for him." 

"Aah." AJ stood and looked up at him. "Did you get any sleep?" 

"Enough for what I have to do." He pulled a computer disk from his backpack. "I have the list of what we've cataloged. Are you ready to start on the placements?" 

"Give me a minute to clean up this stuff." AJ turned back to the desk and started picking up the scattered papers she had been working on. 

Blair began helping her but froze as he read the first one he touched. He picked up another, reading it with the same black curiosity. His voice was soft with shock as he asked her, "you've been researching cult murders?" 

"Hmm?" She looked up from where she was rapidly filing the loose pages. Seeing the page in his hand she frowned for a moment before shrugging. "Oh, those. Kind of. There used to be a group in South America, said they were reestablishing the old ways. I decided to see if they were still active. Since I couldn't find them by name, I decided to look by ritual. Unfortunately, I didn't realize exactly how many cults there were or how many ritual murders occur annually." 

Blair looked at her carefully. He still wasn't sure how much of AJ was bluff and how much was truth. Something though tickled the back of his neck. He knew she was not telling him everything. She gently pulled the papers from his hands and put them away. For the first time, he noticed the bowie laying next to the computer. He looked over and met her shuttered eyes and decided not to say anything, at least not now. 

"Do you need me to make any coffee for you?" She asked him, eyes still watching him. 

"Nah, I'll just steal some of your tea." He reached out and snagged her tea cup. The bitter brew made him wince. "Ugh. This isn't tea. It's awful." 

"It's not regular tea. It's a special blend I brought with me." She shook her head and took the cup away from him. "I'll make you something you'll like." 

Blair watched her head for the kitchen thoughtfully. He knew he'd had that tea before. He just needed time and he'd remember. It was a special blend... he knew that much. 

Friday afternoon, Rainier University. 

Jim Ellison stared up at the apartment building. He'd expected Blair to be inside working, but there was no sign of his partner's car. He frowned before shrugging and heading inside. Even if Blair wasn't there, he wouldn't mind meeting the anthropologist. He'd heard a lot about her in the past few weeks. He had to ask her a couple of questions about Cage anyway. 

Upon arriving at the station that morning, he'd been greeted by a solemn Captain Banks. Somehow, Cage had gotten one of the most well-paid lawyers in Cascade to arrange for an early office visit. At the ungodly hour of 5 am, the photographer, lawyer in tow, had arrived at the station and quietly demanded to give his statement. Claiming to have a flight out of the country for business in a little more than 3 hours, the man gave a rushed but fairly complete description of events. Minutes before Jim arrived, Cage. and the lawyer left. 

The apartment was on the second floor. As he approached, his senses started picking up information about the apartment. The scent of herbs, both fresh and dried assaulted his nose. He glared at the posy tied to the door frame in annoyance. He had really learned to hate dried herbs since his sentinel senses came back to the forefront. From somewhere behind the door he could hear the sound of Fortaleza singing softly to herself. It was something tribal and rhythmic. Unfortunately for her, it masked his knock on the door. 

Jim only hesitated a moment. Blair had told him that AJ left the door unlocked during her version of "office hours" and was always there, working away at her pile of crates. The knob turned easily under his hand. He stepped quietly into the apartment, looking around but not seeing Fortaleza. 

From all of the things Blair had said, Jim knew what to expect. Even after three weeks of hard word, the stacks of crates looked almost enormous. Everywhere he looked was evidence that Fortaleza took her work at the university seriously. He saw neat stacks of journals, carefully labeled by year, tribe, and nation with slips of paper sticking out of the pages taking up most of a set of shelves. Near them was a group of clay figurines, each placed on a separate sheet of paper for identification. Packing material filled several bags, each tightly tied, sitting near the door. 

When he first saw the folder, he thought maybe he'd misread the name. Even from across the room, his name stood out. He felt a shard of ice fill his gut and focused his sight on it. Quickly, he walked across the room, slipping silently between the tightly packed crates. On top of a stack of folders, the thick manila file stood out, almost as if it were shouting for his attention. 

His jaw tensed, the muscle jumping as he opened the file. Close typed words glared up at him. He quickly skimmed over the file. He couldn't believe how much information was there. From the day he went home from the hospital with his mother until he entered the army, every major event in his life was cataloged and examined. His army career was contained on a single page of paper which stated that his file was classified. Most of the file was taken up with an in depth history of the time since his return from Peru. Every single case he'd handled in the Cascade police department which had made the newspapers was there, along with reviews and penciled in notations. Nothing was missed, unless it was classified or had something to do with his sentinel senses. 

The fury that his file engendered turned to ice when he noticed the file below his. That file, titled Blair Sandburg, was over twice the thickness of his. He opened it and began reading, getting colder and angrier as he read. Somehow Fortaleza had gathered more information about Sandburg than Jim had ever seen in one place. The file tracked Naomi and Blair from place to place, rarely losing them. As Blair grew older and entered school, the file became more detailed. It pointed to a long and intensive search by the kind of people he really didn't want around his friend. Very carefully he closed the file, schooling his face onto a semblance of calm. 

"Hello, Detective Ellison." AJ spoke softly, trying not to startle the big man. Only the fact that she recognized him from his photograph kept her from all out panic. This was bad. Really, really bad. It had been a long time since someone had gotten the drop on her. Hopefully her guesses were wrong and he wasn't the sentinel she was afraid he was. Because if he was Enqueri, he would know she wasn't giving him the whole answer to his questions. And she knew he was going to ask. "I'm afraid you missed Blair. He was very tired, so he left about an hour ago." 

"Where did you get this'?" Ellison kept his voice low, fighting to keep from yelling at her. At the tense words she stopped, well out of reach. When he stepped forward she reflexively took a step backwards. His eyes narrowed as he focused his senses on the young woman, looking for any threat to his guide. 

"I can't tell you where each page came from, I don't know. I asked for information. That is what I received." AJ stopped backing up, refusing to be forced any farther into a corner. As Ellison approached, she had to tilt her head uncomfortably to look at him. Reacting to his threatening stance, in her head she began running through an old meditation. 

"I don't believe you. Who are you, really? Why are you researching Sandburg and me?" He leaned over her, intimidating her without touching her. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd have her up again the wall, but something warned him not to push any harder. He could hear the low rumbling growl of his spirit panther as he leaned over her. He dialed his senses up a notch, reading the tension in her, the rising heart rate and blood pressure. He was startled as somehow she firmly forced herself back under control. 

"I am exactly who I said I was. My name is Alessandre Jacobo Fortaleza, I go by AJ Fortaleza. I am an anthropologist and a photographer." AJ knew that even that much of the truth wouldn't really satisfy him. Ellison's file indicated he was paranoid. And as the Americans said, just because you're paranoid doesn't they aren't out to get you. The only thing she could do was to answer with partial truths. "If I was going to have him helping me set up an exhibit worth several million dollars, I needed to know I could trust him with the artifacts. I guaranteed the safety of the artifacts until the day the university takes over the exhibit. I had to know that I could trust Blair Sandburg and, through him, you." 

With her heart rate firmly under her control, Jim couldn't tell if she was lying. Not without pushing the edges of a zone out. If Blair were here he'd be able to push it. He closed Blair's folder and turned away, heading for the door. He had other means of getting information, ones that would cost him less than a confrontation would. Once he had the needed background, he could really question her. 

"Detective Ellison." The young woman moved to block his exit. Her heart rate flared up again, a whiff of fear teased his nostrils before she very gently tapped the file folders in his hands. "Those are mine and they stay here." 

"You should have taken the easy way out and just answered my questions." Jim warned her as he let her take the files. If he thought she'd wouldn't complain to the department, he'd have kept them. She might not like the police, but he had the feeling that she would use them to her advantage. That or she would contact whoever had provided the files. "Now, we do things the hard way." 

AJ watched as the big man stalked out of the apartment. Damn, she didn't need this not now. Actually, she did not ever want to have to deal with this. An angry sentinel was always a problem. The rumbling roar of the panther had assured her of the unknown sentinel's identity. It was more than enough of a warning for her, the panther made her uneasy enough without its sentinel being upset. Ellison was not the kind of person she wanted hunting her, but she couldn't think of any way to answer his questions without causing more problems. All she could do was wait and see. If his contacts were as good as hers, things were about to get interesting. She leaned against the door and, for the first time since her arrival, locked the door during the daylight hours. 

852 Prospect Ave, Apt 307 

Blair looked up as Jim stalked into the loft. Seeing the naked fury on his friend's face, he didn't say a word, just closed his book and waited. He knew better than to push at this point. Jim would talk when he was ready, pushing would just cause him to react, usually negatively. 

The sentinel slammed the door and walked over to the phone. There he pulled open a drawer and removed a battered, ancient address book. He quickly flipped through the pages until he came to the listing he wanted. Still ignoring his guide, he began dialing. 

"Manny? This is Ellison. Yeah, I'm calling in that favor. I need some information. No, nothing classified, just whatever you can get for me on a Alessandre J Fortaleza." Jim listened to the man on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, that's right, she's an anthropologist. It's personal, Manny, she pulled my files so I'm pulling hers. I also need some information about a photographer who goes by the initials K.A.J. Thanks." 

Blair stood and went over to stand next to him. He watched quietly as Jim called another number. He placed a hand on the sentinel's back. Jim's back was so tense that the muscles were quivering. He began rubbing gently, trying to ease some of the tension. 

"Hello, Sandy. Yeah, it's me. I need to speak to Jeff for a minute. No, I'm not trying to borrow your dad for anything. Thanks." A small half smile crept across his face as he listened the to the quiet voice. When the voice was replaced by his old friend, he automatically came to attention. "Hello, sir. Yes, sir, I am calling in that marker. AJ Fortaleza... I think it's short for Alessandre. I'm also looking for information on the photographer K.A.J. No sir, it's not work related, it's personal. No, sir, I don't think any of it will be classified. Thank you, sir." 

Finished with his calls, Jim turned to face Blair. Wrapping his arms around himself, he closed his eyes, breathing in the herbal scent of Blair's shampoo. Dimly he felt a gentle pressure as Blair's hand came to rest on his arm. 

"What happened, Jim? What did AJ do, man? I haven't seen you this mad in a long time." Blair's voice was low, not quite the guide tone he used so often. 

"I went over to her apartment thinking you would be there. I walked in, the door was unlocked, and she hadn't answered. She had a couple of files on the table." Jim looked at his guide, trying to explain what had happened. "The first file was on me. It was a general file on my life, Chief. Information about my family, my education, my military history, my work in the PD. Nothing too detailed, nothing classified just general information. 

"Under that file was a thicker, detailed set of files. It was your life, Blair." The fact that Jim called him by name made Blair tense. He knew it was going to be bad. Real bad. Jim rubbed at his neck as he continued, trying to ease his own tension. "I didn't have time to get through all of it, so I can't tell you exactly what's in it. It was much more thorough than my file. It traces you and Naomi from the time she started seeing her obstetrician. It goes into detail about where you lived, who else was there, what was going on. Whoever gathered that information had a lot of sources, all over the USA, and in a lot of other countries. She has copies of a lot of your papers. It looked like they started gathering them when you were twelve or thirteen." 

"Oh, shit." Blair's voice was soft, almost below Jim's hearing threshold. "I don't believe it. That's about the time I first read about Sentinels. Mom got me a copy of one of Burton's monographs at a country auction." 

Jim watched silently as Blair's mind began extrapolating from the information he'd been given. He could almost see the thoughts racing past. The younger man's fury started at a much slower pace. But, like an avalanche, it rapidly and exponentially grew stronger. 

"Oh, my god, Jim. If she has access to that much information, what does that mean for you? I mean, if she has all my papers, she knows how long I was searching for a sentinel. And what does that mean for Mom? Some of the things she's done could put her in jail. How long have I been under surveillance? It's a fucking conspiracy! How the..." 

"Easy, Chief." Jim soothed his partner. "Monday morning we'll have files on her. Then we'll figure out what to do next." 

"Did she say why she has files on us?" 

"Yeah. She said it was to protect the artifacts in the collection." Jim let his hands roam across the slim back, trying to relax the tension there. "I'm not sure, but she was hiding something." 

"Lying to a sentinel?" Blair snorted. 

"No, it wasn't a lie. More like she was trying to avoid something, hoping I wouldn't ask the right question." The detective frowned. "I think she was trying very hard not to lie, so she skirted the truth. She was also controlling her heart rate, using biofeedback or meditation to keep it steady." 

"Why would she do that, unless she knows you're a sentinel." Blair looked anguished. 

"Let's not borrow trouble, Chief. First thing, tomorrow morning I'm pulling everything I can off the normal channels. Most of the rest will have to wait until Monday, though. The stuff from my friends will arrive by then." The look on Jim's face promised retribution. "We can go see Fortaleza in the afternoon." 

"I'm supposed to work with her Monday." 

"Call in sick. Until I have an idea of what she's really doing here in Cascade, I don't want you alone with her." 

"Jim, it's not like I haven't been alone with her before. She's not going to do anything to me." Blair shook his head. "If anything, I think she's probably here for information on us. Or to get information about you." 

"I don't care, Chief. Until I know it's safe, I want to be with you whenever you're anywhere near her." 

Blair started to respond but didn't. As many times as one or the other of them had ended up in trouble because of a woman, he couldn't really argue against Jim's point of view. The thought of his sentinel being anywhere near AJ made him nervous. He picked up the phone. "Fine. I'll call her now." 

AJ picked up on the first ring. Before he could say a word, she spoke. "I'll see you when you're feeling up to coming in. Keep safe until then." 

"How did you know?" 

"I don't get phone calls, Blair. Who else would be calling?" AJ's voice sounded normal, teasing him with the same easy style she'd used from the moment she'd met him. "Tell Detective Ellison I said hello. Goodnight." 

He hung up the phone and looked at his partner. "Well, that was easy. What do we do now?" 

"Since we don't have anything scheduled until the stakeout, we need to get some sleep. Of course, we could drink a couple of beers and relax first, but I don't think that would be a good idea." Jim's eyes were narrowed as he thought about further possible actions. He still had a lot of toys left over from his time in covert ops. Of course, he couldn't let Blair know what he was thinking. The younger man still hadn't forgotten all the trouble from the time Jim had used an illegal wiretap on Juno. 

Saturday, 03 October, early afternoon 

Jim grabbed the phone on its first ring. He glanced over the railing, focusing his senses on his sleeping guide. The phone had not disturbed him. He spoke quietly into the receiver, "Ellison." 

"Jim, what are you getting yourself into?" The voice made him tense. 

"Jeff?" 

"There are more safeguards on these files than I've seen on a civilian in a long time. I'll have the preliminary files at your office on Monday. Who do you trust to sign for them?" 

"My captain, Simon Banks." The idea that Fortaleza or Cage had confidential files stabbed at his consciousness. "How tight is the security?" 

"You've still got the clearance." He could hear a smile in the other man's voice. "And Jim? I still owe you. In fact, the knowledge that Fortaleza is in the US makes me even more indebted to you." 

He stared at the phone for a moment before hanging up. It sounded like he needed to do some research of his own. Just to find out what the woman was doing in Cascade. The idea brought a grim smile to his lips. It wasn't often that he got to play with his old skills. Now he had a very good excuse to pull out some old toys. too. If he worked fast, he could set up a remote wire tap before Blair woke up. 

Late Saturday afternoon 

It was much later before Jim's wiretap gathered any information. The sentinel was glad he hooked the tape to a voice activated recorder and a remote. Otherwise, he'd have wasted a lot blank tape. As it was, all he had to do was stop by the hidden tape deck every few hours and cheek to see if anything had been recorded. As he checked the equipment during a store run, it activated. The quiet beep as the recorder turned itself on startled him. Quickly the he focused his sight on the distant apartment. 

"Haloa?" Jim focused on Fortaleza, watching her pace in front of the window. Over the phone he could hear her heart rate jump. 

"AJ." 

"Ese? What's going on?" 

"What's so urgent?" The man on the line spoke softly, as if he didn't want to scare Fortaleza. 

"I checked my files, Ese. They're incomplete. Why? You've had more than enough time to straighten them out and get them updated." 

"We can't get to the updates. Zel has code protected them." The man sighed. "Unless you know his passwords or his safe box code, we have to backtrack and rebuild your file from your notes. And that takes time." 

"You need to ask Zel for that, Ese." Fortaleza's voice was tense as she stared out across the university commons. Jim focused on her face, watching the conflicting emotions that rapidly crossed it. He forced himself to concentrate on listening to the conversation at the same time, praying that he wouldn't zone. Trying to explain that to Blair would be hard. "You know that. Why haven't you?" 

"Zel is missing, AJ. He checked himself out AMA." Regret was obvious in his tone. "The doctors aren't even sure he was coherent when he left. They have is his signature on the forms but no one remembers him signing them." 

"When?" 

"September 1st." 

"I can catch the next flight east." Fortaleza's face was pale. her eyes closed as she leaned against the glass. "Maybe I can find him. I could have gone straight there, found him before it came to this. Maybe if he'd been here..." 

"No." Ese's voice was firm. "You know you can't do that. You can't track him in the city, it's not your environment. You take care of his exhibit, make sure that he has a job to come back to and I'll find him." 

"I don't like the idea of him being lost and sick out there." Her words were soft, almost vanishing in the static from the long distance line. "He always took care of me, it's my turn to take care of him." 

"Between us, he'll be fine." There was a long pause before the man spoke again. "Someone is checking you out, pulling tagged public files. Any ideas who it is?" 

"Probably, Detective Ellison." 

"A cop? You've made friends with a cop?" 

"He's the detective who works with Blair Sandburg, the teaching fellow I'm working with here. 

It's not a problem." She sounded resigned. 

"He checked you out. Thoroughly. You don't need that kind of attention." The man paused and then his voice sounded even more disparaging. "Cage went back to the jungle? He left you there alone?" 

"Calm down, Ese. I'm a threat to no one and I owe no one here. No one is going to hunt me down, not here." Fortaleza's voice became soothing and relaxed. As Jim quietly listened in, her heart rate returned to normal. "I am as close to being retired as can be. Everyone who knows anything, knows that I am a simply a teacher." 

"AJ... you're playing a dangerous game." It suddenly occurred to Jim that Ese's voice was strained, trying to hide something. "We know that we weren't told everything before you were sent to Cascade." 

"No. I'm not playing. Until you find Zel and he gets the treatment he needs, I'll cover for him here." Fortaleza seemed far too calm for the undercurrents he was hearing. "Take care of your end. I'll see to the exhibit. Hey, Ese? When does the rest arrive? The knife collection is late. And so are my boxes." 

"I'll see what I can find out and call you back." 

"I'll be here." Fortaleza murmured as she hung up the phone. She leaned her forehead against the glass, closing her eyes with a sigh. Jim focused on the words that were slipping quietly from her lips. The sound of the Chopec prayer for healing shook him to his core. It had been years since he'd heard those words. He wanted those files now, not Monday morning. 

Cascade PD, Major Crimes Department, 05 October 

The first thing Jim and Blair noticed when they walked into the bullpen was the thick package sitting on Jim's desk. Blair eyed it curiously, a slow grin spreading across his face. "That was fast, man." 

Jim shrugged out of his coat and hung it up. Ignoring Blair's pleading look, he picked up his coffee cup and asked, "want some coffee first?" 

"No. I'm fine." Blair fidgeted for a moment before sitting on the corner of the desk and examining the two packages. "I'll wait here." 

"Sure, Chief." 

Hiding a smirk at the obvious curiosity and the effort Blair was putting into controlling it, Jim headed into the break room. Rafe and Brown joined him. 

"So, how long until he blows a gasket trying to read the return address?" Brown asked with a chuckle. 

"Ten minutes." Rafe replied. 

"Coffee?" Jim held up the pot. Both men held out their cups with identical smiles. "What's up? Trying to see how long you can delay my return?" 

"Yep." Brown laughed. "The betting pool is at $140 on how long before either he opens one of them, or he asks you to go ahead and open it." 

"Stacking the deck, Brown?" 

"Nah, man. I wouldn't do that." The detective grinned innocently. 

"Right. Of course, you would Henri." His partner chided, as he stirred creamer into his coffee cup. "You'd do anything to get Vice's money." 

Jim and Brown both chuckled at the comment. 

Rafe shrugged and grinned at them. H protested with a slight whine that made them laugh aloud. 

"Well, it's the truth." 

When Jim returned to his desk he found Blair and Simon talking quietly as they waited for him. 

"Ellison, since when am I required to sign for your packages?" Simon's voice was almost gentle as he looked at his detective. 

"Ever since we've demanded that all federal agents get signed in and confirmed by the front desk before they can work with Major Crimes?" Jim grinned unrepentantly, as he picked up the sealed envelopes. 

"Do I want to know?" Simon asked quietly. He knew his men and he knew their penchant for finding trouble. 

"I'll let you know, sir." Jim watched as Simon drew himself upright at the word. They both knew that he only called the big captain sir when they were at loggerheads or trouble was surfacing. "Someone pulled my file and put together an impressive one on Sandburg. I'm simply returning the favor." 

"Keep me informed, Jim." Simon met both of their eyes, noting their tension, and nodded before turning and going into his office. 

The phone on Jim's desk rang and he grabbed it, opening the envelope one-handed. "Ellison. Yeah, I got it Manny. Are you sure? Okay. No problem, I'll keep in touch." 

Jim frowned and looked over at Blair. He sat and waited a moment for Blair to pull a chair up to the desk. "Ready?" 

Blair nodded, watching as Jim slid two file folders from the envelope. The first was simply labeled "primary search". It was thin. Blair opened it and frowned at it. It contained a cut and dry set of government forms, passport records, immunizations and medical records. 

"Well, that's so not informative." Blair's disgusted comment brought Jim's head up from where he had been reading the note Manny included with the files. 

"Manny warned that the first search didn't bring up much." Jim spoke softly. "Which coming from a man in his position at State is surprising." 

He looked over Blair's shoulder at the first file. When he'd requested the information he hadn't expected to get much, but he'd definitely expected more than this. Most of it was government paperwork; passport records, vaccination records, birth certificate, but none of it contained anything they could use. Each form had the bare minimum information filled out, in fact there were more empty spaces than full. As suspicious as he was about Fortaleza and her reasons for being in Cascade, the lack of information made his mental alarms go off even louder than before. 

With an angry flip, he opened the second file, hoping for more information. The second of the files was public material relating to both K.A.J. and Fortaleza. Newspaper articles from several nations, with accompanying translations where necessary, made up the bulk of the file. Brief one page synopses of papers that the anthropologist had submitted took up the remainder. In it all there were only two photographs. 

One was a side view of young child turning away. The child's movements rendered most of the photo mainly a blur of long legs and hair. One arm in sharp relief, was held firmly by a large, aged hand at the elbow. A fresh tribal mark glowed eerily against slightly reddened skin of the upper arm. Above it intricately woven tattoos rested quietly against the fair skin. The muted colors of the tattoos seemed to meld into a band around the child's arm. It was tentatively labeled: Fortaleza? age 11? in pencil. 

The other picture was dark and poorly focused, unlike the crisp picture of the child. At first glance it was a group of tribesmen in a jungle setting. A closer look made Ellison frown. The warriors were facing outward, protecting the figures in the center. A pale, skinny, almost rail-thin, figure was leaning against a hard faced tribal warrior as another man crouched beside them, tending the bloody wounds on figure's back. On the ground and out of focus, completely ignored, was a uniformed body. A thin object at the crouching man's feet made Jim wince. The flowing curves of the bow identified the hunting party in a way that the blurred tribal paint did not. The Walks Through People. There was no identification of the wounded man, but he was pretty sure who it was. On the back of the picture someone had penciled in the initials K A J. Thoughtfully he handed them both to Blair. 

Muttering dire comments under his breath as he dialed a number from memory. He needed more information to make his decision. Depending on what he found out from his old friend at the CIA, he'd know whether he could trust anything Fortaleza said or not. 

"Andrew? It's Ellison. Yeah, I'm doing fine. How's the wife?" They made a bit of small talk before settling down to business. "Yeah, I'm looking for information on an AJ Fortaleza or Cage... that's right the photographer." 

The man on the other line hesitated as he read the information he pulled up on his terminal. "Jim, how important is this?" 

"It's real important. I've been having trouble getting any real information about either of them." There was a long pause. "What is it, Andrew?." Jim felt a block of ice begin to form in his chest, as he waited for the response. 

"They are both gold sources, Jim. If either one calls and the ID code matches we are to treat him as gold. No questions as to how either of them got the information. Just act on it and fast." There was a bit of awe in his friend's voice. "The last time he contacted one of our people, he gave us a lead on some really nasty terrorists." 

"Gold? That good?... damn." Ellison paused, thinking quickly. The fact that Andrew referred to Fortaleza as 'he' hadn't gotten past him. It took some really heavy pull to obscure information in the secured files. "Who do they normally work for?" 

"No one, Jim. Each man volunteers his information and he's either completely independent or they work for someone we don't know. Both were raised by Abraham Zelinski, trained by him. Fortaleza acts as a forerunner, a guide into new territory, befriends the natives. Never does wet work of any kind that I can see. The closest to official work is when he finds lost Americans in the jungle and delivers them to the nearest friendly embassy." The man on the other end paused. 

"We don't contact Fortaleza unless it's dire. Cage is another story. Likes wet work, as long as he doesn't have to leave his home territory. He's gone inside some pretty seamy places for us. All of is code name material, Jim. I can't tell you anything else about it." 

"I don't need that kind of information. I just want a general idea of who I'm dealing with." Jim replied to the silent question in his friend's words. 

"Cage and Alex Fortaleza have worked together for years. Rumor says they're involved or related. Never seen together but always backing each other up, that kind of thing. If anything goes wrong near Fortaleza, Cage goes in to clean it up and he's real good." The Sentinel could hear the other man typing away at his computer. "Looks like they've given information to us, the Brits, Interpol, and the Aussies. It says here that they didn't play nice when Pinochet tried to have Fortaleza picked up. Between Cage's pictures and the story Fortaleza wrote to go with them, they raised more money for Amnesty International's operations than their entire publicity campaign did the previous year." 

"How long is the file?" 

"It's real short, Jim. All it has are passwords and what's been done for us. And most of that is rumor, no hard facts, no proof. No pictures, no description, nada." The man paused before continuing. "Jim, there's one more thing. Fortaleza and Cage are both said to be protective of their people. Everyone who's ever worked with them has been, shall we say, looked after once they got on one of their good sides." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, it says here that they broke regs to rescue someone we'd given up on. Dragged him a couple of hundred klicks to a mission just because, to quote Cage's official report, 'you never leave your own behind'." Jim could hear his friend typing again. "If you're working with them, you couldn't ask for better back up. Jim, one of them really pushed for the satellite pictures that found you." 

Jim was silent for a long moment as he contemplated that information. "Thanks, Andrew. I owe you one." 

"Buy me a beer when I'm in town." His friend chuckled. "The fact is that just being able to note that Fortaleza is in the country is more than payment enough. It means that Cage will be in and out of the area, and that is something my people like knowing. You need anything else, just call." 

"You got it." 

"Well?" Blair sounded impatient, as he waited for Jim to explain his phone call. 

"Open the other envelope." Was Jim's only answer. Part of him hoped that Jeff had been able to answer the questions that he was coming up with. Questions as to just how dangerous the woman was going to be towards his guide. 

Blair sighed and opened the envelope, sliding out three files. The first two were like the ones sent by Manny, official documents and public information. The third file was marked classified. Blair looked at the red stamp on the folder and handed it over to Jim without saying a word. 

"Thanks, Chief." The sentinel opened the file and froze. The first page was a photograph. At his side, Blair swallowed loudly. The picture was old. Between the make of the cars involved in the accident and the yellowing of the picture, he'd guess at least twenty years old. It showed the remains of five cars, all of them burned, crumpled wrecks. In the closest car, the remains of a driver could still be seen. 

Jim turned the photograph over and laid it face down on the desk. Blair plucked the medical report from the file and began reading it aloud. "Oh, man. Broken legs, flailed chest, concussion... What on earth is a bilateral hematoma? First degree burns. Complete amnesia due to the blow to the head. They removed a 22 caliber bullet... wait a minute. Jim, does this make any sense to you?" 

"Fortaleza was the only survivor," Jim spoke up, reading from the police report. "And they never found out which car she was pulled from." 

"But, if ... then how did they know who she was?" Blair was confused as he read the long medical file. He paused and looked at the file of 'official' documents. "This isn't mentioned in the other file." 

"No, it wouldn't be." Jim handed over the list naming the people who died in the accident. "I don't think they ever tried to figure out exactly who she was before either." 

Blair read the names and their occupations. "What was going on? A convention for special agents and their families? Only this one here is listed as a normal family. She could have been in any of those cars..." 

Jim rubbed his forehead, pensively. "According to this a DEA special agent pulled three kids from three different wrecks before the gas tanks blew. Two died and one, Fortaleza lived. Someone wanted all the adults dead, the kids were accidental, collateral damage." 

"Collateral damage? We're talking about kids, man. Who takes out entire families like that? Don't answer that, I don't want to know." The anthropologist was distressed by the thought of what had occurred that night so long ago. He forced himself to calm down, to detach from the horror of the notes. "But this doesn't explain how she ended up in South America." 

"Actually it does, Chief. She was raised by that agent. The same one who pulled her out of the wreckage. His name was Abraham Zelinski. He was on his way to the airport, leaving for a long term assignment in South America when he saw the whole thing go down." Jim skimmed the file, noting that in several places pages had been removed and there were references to items not in the file. "Zelinski claimed her and the agency agreed to allow him to take her once she was out of the hospital. They wanted to make sure that no one knew she was alive even if they didn't know which child she was." 

"So who named her?" 

"AJ came from the paramedic." Jim squinted as he read the faded notes. "She kept calling that name before she passed out. Jacobo was the name of the doctor that kept her alive. Fortaleza was the code name they gave her while she was in Bethesda Naval Hospital." 

"Why Bethesda?" Blair asked, reading the medical notes. "Oh, never mind. I found it. Someone 'accidentally' gave her the wrong medication so they moved her to a more secure hospital. And then they sent her to South America..." Blair scanned a page, frowning, "it looks like they sent her almost two years later. That's some rehab time. And why send her to Peru? Why not bring Zelinski back to the US?" 

Jim knew the answer to that question. He sighed. "The tribes would accept him easier if he had a child with him. He wouldn't have been considered a threat to them. Especially since they considered her blessed. . . according to the file she was DOA, but they revived her. Once that was explained to the elders of the tribe, most would have her..." 

"In training with their Shaman. Yeah, you're right, it makes sense." Blair finished the sentence for his reluctant partner. "And since they were working on building an anti-drug task force among the natives, needed to move the girl, and already had Zelinski in position, they took the opportunity. This also explains why she moved so much. Being an anthropologist was a great cover. Who would look at them twice? Who would suspect an anthropologist and his ward worked for the government?" 

"The perfect cover." Jim's face was grim as he thought of all the risks involved. Something wasn't quite clicking together. "But not for your average DEA agent." 

"What do you think he was?" 

"You don't want to know, Chief." He shook his head at the bright eyes that watched him. The only thing that made sense was that Zelinski was CIA. And if he was, so was Fortaleza. 

"Well, it explains all the inconsistencies I was running into at the university." Blair commented quietly. 

"What kind of inconsistencies?" The detective sat up, posture stiffening at the comment. 

"I kept thinking that AJ was too young for all of this. She's younger than I am, only twenty seven, but her credentials are incredible. She's been a published author for thirteen, almost fourteen years. That puts her at thirteen when she first published." Blair looked embarrassed as he glanced at Jim. "When I was checking out one of the pieces for the museum I noticed something else that's odd. She's listed as the finder, but that expedition took place sixteen years ago, Jim. That made about her eight years old. I checked out everything I could find about her in the anthro journals, she's listed at minor archeology digs and in anthropology groups since about six months before that. It just didn't make sense before. But if she joined Zelinski when she was seven, it does." 

"We don't know that she's twenty seven. According to these files she had complete amnesia. The doctor's estimate she was between four and six, maybe as old as seven, when she was admitted." Jim's mind began racing as he took in the information. "Did you find any reference to Zelinki? Or to her education? Anything that would suggest whether she ever went to school?" 

"I didn't see anyone else on the digs or the in the groups with her last name. The only person who was consistently with her was Zelinski." The puzzle in his eyes was slowly clearing as he began to understand. "And I wasn't looking for school stuff." 

"How old were you when you started college, sixteen?" The detective looked thoughtful. 

"There's no way she was in college when she started going out on digs, man. No accredited school would take in a child that young, not full time. Maybe for a few and I mean, a few, classes. She's listed as a contributing member of the digs." Blair thought for a moment. "It's possible that she was home schooled while traveling with Zelinski. If they did that and she was tutored by the others they were working with, wow. That would be an impressive education. I mean, the names of the anthropologists and archaeologists on some of their expeditions are among the best around. That would definitely make more sense than anything else." 

"You don't think she's who she says she is?" Jim's worries were growing by leaps and bounds. 

"That's not it. She is who she says she is. She's too knowledgeable not to be. It's like she's more and yet less then I expected." His confusion showed on his face as he sat next to his sentinel. Blair actually blushed as he admitted, "I tested her, Jim. I've tried everything I can think of to try to trip her up and failed. I quizzed her on things that only someone who has been there would know. She answered without even thinking about it. And her pictures, they are the same clear concise wordless expressions I was expecting. In fact, just Friday, no I guess it was early last week, she got exasperated and told me to quit pussyfooting around and ask her whatever was bothering me. So I did and she laughed so hard. She said she'd have someone get her old journals out of storage and mail them to me. She is Fortaleza." 

"Then what's the problem?" The sentinel focused on his guide. His heart rate was up, his breathing rapid. He watched the smaller man, trying so hard to sit still and failing. He knew Blair's instincts were good and if he was this jittery, something was wrong. "Are you sure that's what was bothering you?" 

"No, I'm not. It's not quite an uneasy feeling, but I'm not sure what it is." He admitted finally. "It's like a puzzle, one that I don't have the picture for and the pieces don't seem to want to fit together. She's almost too good to be true. Until now, the only thing that didn't fit was her naïveté about life here, but now... even that makes sense." 

"I think it's time for us to go talk to the lady." Jim stood, carefully closing the files. After placing them in their respective envelopes and sealing them up, he went to Simon's door. Knocking he waited for a moment before entering. "Sandburg and I will be at the University if you need us." 

Captain Banks looked up, eyes curious. "Is this about those files?" 

"Yes, sir. I'll explain later, if anything comes of this." 

"All right. Stay out of trouble, if the two of you can." Simon spoke softly, but his worried eyes were merry enough. After all the times that his detective and the observer started out just nosing around for information and ended up in the middle of a shoot out, he was entitled to the comment. "I don't want to explain any more odd occurrences on the campus to the mayor." 

"Not if I can help it, sir." 

Rainier University Apartments 

Blair knocked on the door, bouncing slightly. The fact that the door had been locked had startled him. As they waited, he looked around curiously. Finally he turned to Jim, "Maybe she's not here?" 

"She's on the phone." The sentinel frowned, focusing on her words. "Arranging for someone to pick up crates. Let me do the talking, Sandburg." 

As he spoke, the lock clicked and the door swung open. Fortaleza retreated, still arguing softly with the person on the phone. The two men followed her voice into the dining area. There the crates were carefully stacked and labeled. As they watched she quickly counted them before speaking into the phone. 

"That's right. I have 12 more to be taken to the Museum and 10 for storage. Actually it is easier to work here. I can work all night if I want. I don't have to cross campus or fight the crates in that tiny office. Yes, Sandburg has been working with me. Do you not trust my judgment?" As she growled into to the phone she held up the tea kettle and raised an eyebrow. At their negative head motions she shrugged, pouring herself a cup of tea. 

She listened quietly to the person on the other end of the phone, before tossing her braid over her shoulder and beginning again. She motioned for them to make themselves at home. Blair picked up the file that was sitting on the table and began to read. Jim leaned against a wall, watching the young woman handle the head of the anthropology department. "I. Like. Working. From. Here. How hard is that to understand? I don't like walking through the crowds in the building. As for the complaint, how would he know? I keep track of the hours very carefully. At this point I owe Mr. Sandburg 12 ½ hours, he owes me none. Actually, your informant is wrong, he is here now. He's been doing research for me. It sounds like your informant is ... um, jealous, I believe the word is. Yes, I understand. I'll oversee the collection in the morning." 

Hanging up the phone, she turned around to face the two men, noting that Sandburg was busy skimming through his file. Fortaleza raised an eyebrow at his expression. Sipping her tea, she grinned at Jim's quiet expression. "So does he get to work with me? Or should I move to the offices, that way you know I am not a threat to him." 

"You're not a threat. Cage might be." Jim's words startled both anthropologists. Fortaleza set her cup down, eyes wary. Blair sat up, closing his file. "You act as a forerunner, getting information before anyone else gets sent in. Cage is the one who does all of the dirty work. So why are you here?" 

"I'm here because Zel needs someone to handle this exhibit for him." Fortaleza kept her eyes on Jim, watching him like a person would watch a dangerous animal. "He has always taken care of me. Now I have a chance to take care of him. Maybe, I get to pay some of the debt I owe him." 

"He's your guardian, how can you owe him anything?" Blair's voice was soft. 

"If you had the chance to take care of your mother, would you back away from it?" Fortaleza glanced over at the young man before turning back to watch the detective. "Or would you drop everything to go help her?" 

Jim let his senses range over the young woman, knowing that Blair would keep an eye out for any zones. Her heart rate was calm, but not controlled. Her voice calm, curious but not scared. The scent was again calm. He almost grinned as he recognized the scent of the herbs. She had done some serious meditating over the weekend. "Why you and not someone else? Why didn't Cage stay with you?" 

"I'm the only one who has a chance at understanding Zel's intentions for this exhibit. Besides, I'd been meaning to come to the US for a while. I've just been busy." The slight elevation of her heart rate, the slight bitter tinge of fear in her scent gave her away. This time Jim did grin, a small cold flicker at the corner of his lips. "As for Cage, no one ties Cage down. Not me, not anyone." 

"Who do you really work for? What agency?" His voice was hard, accusing, his eyes measuring every minute change in her posture. 

"I don't work for anyone. I get hired as a guide, a go-between, or an interpreter for expeditions." Fortaleza's voice snapped back at him. She glanced over at Blair but his calm expression made it obvious that he was letting Ellison handle this situation. She went back to watching the quiet man leaning against the wall. "I am not dangerous. Not to you and not to Sandburg." 

"What would you do if I said I don't believe you?" 

She looked away, glancing at Blair. A frown formed and then disappeared as she looked from guide to sentinel, catching the slight tension in the younger man as he focused on the older one. She instantly understood, the guide was watching his sentinel, keeping an eye on his use of his senses. Time to speak only the truth., but she had to do it without revealing everything. 

"You lived among the Chopec, right?" She waited for the slow nod. She didn't know if the anthropologist had told his friend that she knew who he was and didn't want to startle him. Carefully bracing herself for his reaction, she turned up the left sleeve of her T-shirt. When Jim's eyes focused on the tattoos, she began speaking, her words measured and emotionless. "I am of the Walks Through tribe, the Chopec called us the people who walk between the worlds. It is what we call the end times and I have been sent north. I would have come whether or not there was anyone else who could do Zel's job. I am honor bound to be here. I want nothing from you or from Sandburg except his assistance with the exhibit. As soon as the season is over and my purpose here done, I go home." 

"What? But they don't exist! They're just a myth!" Blair's startled words made her smile. 

"They exist Chief." Jim spoke quietly. The woman was calm, her breathing and heart rate normal. He studied her, wondering what was missing. "What else is involved?" 

"Nothing for you or for Sandburg. I am here to honor my maystru's promise." She watched him think over her words. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow at her, telling her he had noted the internal hesitation. Yielding to the necessity, AJ pulled a necklace over her head and handed it to him. The shocked look on his face told her he recognized it's significance. "I promise you this, under my oath as sagrada del tribu, Sandburg will come to no harm that I can prevent." 

The sentinel heard the promise in her words, in her voice and felt it echo through all of his senses. His eyes measured the woman before him as his fingers traced the pattern carved into the stone she had handed him. Incacha had worn an amulet like this one and he had told Enqueri that an oath on that amulet bound the soul for all time. He nodded, accepting the vow. 

"Are you two going to explain what just happened?" Blair's voice broke the silence. Both looked at each other and then shook their heads negatively, turning to meet curious eyes. 

"She passed, Chief." Jim's face was calm, quiet. "But I still want to know where all the information about Sandburg came from." 

"So do I. This is amazing." Blair's voice was awed, as he stroked the file's cover. 

"I asked Cage. This was given to me after I arrived. I never asked for where it came from." AJ shrugged at the men's frowns. "Sorry." 

"And you won't ask him, will you?" Jim found himself relaxing. He knew that Fortaleza's promise was good. And if anything ever happened to her, her tribe would honor it. Blair was safer with her than he would be at most crime scenes. 

"No." Fortaleza focused on the detective and noticing that the tension had left, grinned at him. "That would be rude." 

"Oh, we don't want to be rude." Blair quipped. 

"Cheqaq?" Is that so? Jim asked at the same moment. 

Fortaleza looked from one to the other, eyes wide. At her confusion, Blair began to chuckle. She wrinkled her nose at him and shook her head. She should have know he still spoke fluent Quechua. "Remind me to watch my tongue around him, please?" 

"Nah, that would be no fun. I think I'll just let you get into trouble on your own." 

"Thank you ever so much." She grimaced at the amused look the two men shared. "So, since I 

pass your questioning, do I get my assistant back?" 

"Bright and early tomorrow morning, he's all yours." 

"Hey, man! Not too early, we have another late stakeout tonight." 

"I'll be here." AJ commented quietly. "Well, I'll be here after I go to the museum in the morning." 

"How about I meet you there?" 

"Done. Tomorrow at the museum." AJ stood, grabbing her camera bag as an alarm went off. "I have a class. Please, lock the door as you leave. And Blair? I received my journals over the weekend. They're on the second shelf if you still want to read them." With that, she turned and headed for the door. 

"Fortaleza?" Jim's voice made her freeze. "Are you sure you trust us?" 

Fortaleza looked him curiously. "Of course I do. I've known that for a while, Detective Ellison. After all, between his gentleness and your honesty, I have nothing to worry about." 

#### 

It was only after she was certain they were gone that AJ relaxed. She'd done it. No mention of the Cult, the missing tablets, the threats to sentinel and guide. The king knife had stayed silent in the presence of the sentinel and the guide didn't know enough to react to it. She closed her eyes and sighed. Now if she could only find the missing tablets before they were used. 


	6. Storm Beginnings

15 October, Rainier University  
  
  
  
A soft blanket settled slowly over Sandburg's body. Silently her hands tucked it over and around him. Once he was cared for -- his glasses, and shoes removed and placed near him, collar loosened, body gently reclined back onto the sofa -- she gave in to the odd urge, leaned down, and briefly kissed his forehead.  
  
"Oh, you sleep as hard as you work. " She whispered to the unconscious man with a soft smile. If he could see her face, he would have been surprised at the emotions there. She worked very hard to convince everyone she had none, but he was getting too close for her to ignore. If she wasn't careful she would end up hurting when it came time to leave. She couldn't let the young man become a friend. Frineds only made work harder. She frowned at herself. Maybe she should leave now rather than risk the emotional ties. It was something to think about.  
  
She turned down the light and walked to the phone. Her fingers danced across the memorized numbers. She waited patiently as the other phone rang. Finally an answering machine answered.  
  
"Hello. This message is for Detective Ellison. It's Fortaleza. Sandburg's here. Come by if you want him. 555-1234." Her voice was soft and tired even to her own ears. "I'll be up until midnight."  
  
  
  
852 Prospect, Apt 307  
  
Jim glanced around the loft as he hung up his coat, looking for a note. This was the first time in nearly a month that Blair wasn't home before eleven. Since starting to work for Fortaleza, his hours had stabilized enormously. The woman was a fanatic about keeping Blair's hours under control. Unfortunately, she couldn't control his hours researching or working at the station. If she knew how long he was spending at the library or curled up with her journals, she'd cut the young man's hours even more.  
  
He walked over to the answering machine. The light was blinking, probably Blair's car had broke down again. He pressed the button and listened to several messages before the one he wanted began. Fortaleza's voice came on, it's accent a little thicker than normal. Even with the declared truce between them, she was as wary of him as if he were his spirit guide in the flesh.  
  
He wasn't quite sure how to take that. It was not the first time he'd ever had someone so completely on edge. It was the first time someone he had decided was not a threat or a danger stayed edgy around him. After all, they had declared a truce, the problems should be over. If she was planning something that would risk Blair's life, he'd be able to understand her wariness. But the reports all stated firmly that Fortaleza kept her word. That meant Blair was in no danger around her. Therefore, Jim had no problem with the woman. One of these days, he mused silently, he was going to have to convince her that he wouldn't bite.  
  
Her voice was soft, nearly a whisper. Weariness echoed in it. "Hello. This message is for Detective Ellison. It's Fortaleza. Sandburg's here. Come by if you want him. 555-1234. I'll be up until midnight."  
  
He glanced at the clock. If he left now, he could be there with a few minutes to spare. He sighed and turned to leave.  
  
  
  
Rainier University Apartments  
  
Snow swirled in the parking lot as he pulled into the space next to Blair's car. He looked up at the dark building. The only lighted windows were on the second floor, marking Fortaleza's apartment. The sight of a figure pacing jerkily behind the curtain set off alarms in Jim's mind. Every description Blair gave of Fortaleza portrayed the woman as a calm and controlled bundle of energy. The figure was too big, too bulky to be his partner and he knew for a fact the woman was too shy to invite company over. In fact that was something Blair often worried about. Jim slid out of the truck, automatically checking that his weapon was in place. He turned up his hearing and headed for the snow covered walkway.  
  
"Take it easy, man." Blair's voice was low, almost in Guide mode. His heart was racing, his breathing fast and shallow. "The artifacts aren't worth someone's life."  
  
"Where's the dagger collection?" A rough, young voice asked.  
  
"It's not here." There was a faint buzz under her words, almost a mechanical sound. Then he heard a soft, nearly inaudible click, but Jim couldn't place the sound. Fortaleza's accent was carefully held at bay. Her voice was louder than normal, almost as if she was trying to force their attention to stay focused on her. He heard the strain of anger under the accent. "All of the valuable artifacts are already at the museum."  
  
"Not the daggers. Where did you put them?" the rough voice was too calm. He could hear the sound of a safety being removed.  
  
Jim broke into a run. Racing against time to reach the apartment before things got out of control. He heard a slap and a body hit the floor.  
  
"Leave her alone!" Blair's voice was raised and he could hear the sound of bodies moving.  
  
"Sandburg! NO!" Fortaleza yelled, as the sound of a gunshot ripped through his sensitive ears.  
  
Jim shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. The sound of Blair yelling and the crash of breaking glass made him look up. A slim body hurtled down at him from the second story window. For a moment, he thought it was Blair, but it was someone he didn't recognize. A long handled spear pierced through the man's shoulder, the spearhead gleamed wetly at him before it was buried in the snow-packed ground under the body. He barely paused to make sure the man was unconscious and not dead.  
  
The Sentinel ran up the short steps and into the building, pulling out his cell phone. As he raced up the stairs, he pushed the speed dial for the precinct while drawing his pistol. He quickly and tersely explained the situation to the officer on duty, slowing as he reached the top of the stairs. He listened to the other man's reply with only one ear before grunting his agreement and hanging up the phone. Slowly, he crept down the hallway, hooking his badge to his pocket and listening to the sounds coming from the apartment.  
  
He heard the sound of a body slamming into a wall. Then came a loud crash followed by a moan. The room went eerily silent.  
  
"I really would suggest that you NOT do that." Fortaleza's voice was harsh, filled with an icy rage that made Jim's blood go cold. She was barely in control. He stood at the door, trying to picture what was going on behind it. "If anything happens to Sandburg, not even Tlazolteotl will want what's left of you when I'm done."  
  
Something fell to the floor and he could hear the sound of people moving around. Jim took a deep breath, grabbed the doorknob and opened it. A rapidly moving figure came at him from the side. Instinctively he reacted, whirling and raising his pistol in one smooth movement. He froze, lifting the pistol away as AJ halted, looking at him curiously.  
  
"Fortaleza? It's Ellison." He announced quietly, taking in the tableau. In the distance he heard approaching sirens. At his words, she nodded, the tension falling away slightly. She reached out one hand and flipped the light switch, flooding the room with light.  
  
Blair crouched across the room, his hands pinning a man's arm in an uncomfortable hold. He looked up at his partner and grinned in relief. A red mark on his temple showed the beginning of a bruise. His rumpled clothes and the blanket lying beside the couch were testament to his interrupted nap. With a relieved grin, Jim tossed his handcuffs to the younger man.  
  
The woman beside Jim stirred, looking over at Blair. Her relief startled Jim. She really cared for his Guide, friendship, worry, and affection reflecting briefly on her face before her expression went flat. The look she shot at the men near the window was cold, filled with a barely contained fury.  
  
Jim moved over to where two men knelt, hands folded on their heads. Both men were pale, their eyes wide and frightened. They kept their eyes focused on the woman. He heard her approach and noticed the fear in their eyes growing as she drew closer. He turned to look at her, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead.  
  
Fortaleza's eyes met his. Pale green eyes, flecked with silver looked at him, measuring him, trying to read him. The pupils were mere pinpricks rimmed with a solid ring of silvery gray. The force behind those eyes stabbed at him, demanding his full attention. He felt the Sentinel in him stir warily and then, inexplicably, subside. Her eyes darted away, releasing him.  
  
He could see the spreading bruises that marred her face and throat as her tan faded. What had, in the first moments after his entrance, been golden skin was now rapidly turning pale. One slim hand rose to her cheek, wiping at the snowflakes falling through the broken glass, leaving a bloody streak.  
  
"Where are you hurt?" Jim's voice was harsh, even to his own ears. Blair turned his attention to them, startled.  
  
"I'm fine. It's not mine. I kept him safe for you, Detective Ellison." A slow smile spread across her face. The dazed expression that crossed her face as she spoke had him moving towards her. "If it were not for the circumstances, I would be happy to see you again."  
  
Jim caught her as her eyes rolled back and she began to fall bonelessly. One arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against his chest. As soon as he grabbed her, he realized that her side was wet and that the heavy scent of blood came from her. He glanced down at the two men as they began to move restively.  
  
"Don't even," he growled at them, balancing the woman against his side.  
  
Blair quickly crossed the room to Jim's side. His voice was soft, worried as he reached for Fortaleza. "Let me take her, Jim."  
  
He released her into his partner's hands, keeping an angry eye on the two men. Both looked away from the barely harnessed fury in his eyes. He looked away from them, scanning Blair as the young man wadded up the blanket and pressed into the woman's side. His Guide looked a bit rough around the edges but otherwise seemed unharmed.  
  
"I'm glad you're okay, Chief," he murmured.  
  
Blair looked up from Fortaleza's side and smiled at him. "Me too, Jim. Me too."  
  
  
  
16 October, Cascade General Hospital  
  
Jim watched as Blair paced the waiting room. The past two hours had been hard on the younger man. The nurses and doctors, although they were familiar and some were even friends, would not release any information about Fortaleza.  
  
"Sit down, Blair." Jim grabbed Blair's arm as he paced past again. "Come on, Chief. You're exhausted and this won't help her."  
  
"Jim, I just can't get over it. One minute I was working on the background for an artifact and the next there was a gun in my face. I don't even remember going to sleep in between." He looked up, eyes wide. "She just exploded, man. I mean, she was like, so calm, explaining to them that there were no valuable artifacts in the apartment and then, when that one pulled the gun on me, bam. She grabbed the spear in one hand and the Bowie in the other. I've never seen anything like it.  
  
"I'd wondered about that, I mean, the spear thing. The thing just appeared one morning on the coffee table. Since then, it was always around, leaning on the table or the wall, always within reach. I never noticed her carrying it around, it just seemed to migrate to wherever she was working. And when she reached for it, I mean, I hadn't even noticed it was there." Sandburg bounced back onto his feet and began pacing again, still thinking aloud. "The moment the man threatened me, she went from conciliatory to attack. There was no pause from the one to the other."  
  
"Chief, I hate to tell you this, but from what little I saw, her moves were professional." Jim broke into the scholar's thoughts. His eyes followed his partner's restless pacing as he mentally reviewed the woman's movements. "When I came in, she came up to me, not threatening me, but judging me. She was ready for any move I made. Even if I'd shot at her, that knife was ready to be thrown and I wouldn't have gotten away unscathed. The moment she recognized me, she backed off. She's had some really good combat training."  
  
"Yeah, I kind of noticed that when she took out those three guys. But what does that mean?"  
  
"I don't follow you, Chief."  
  
"When she lost it in the apartment, it was like looking at a wild animal, one trapped and terrified. She would have done anything to get us to safety. Then when she headed towards you, I thought..."  
  
Sandburg's correct assessment of the situation startled Jim. He hadn't realized just how much the exposure to police life had opened the younger man's eyes. First with the unease and the search for answers about Fortaleza's past and then with the judgment of the fight in the apartment. He thought hard, carefully choosing his words, trying not to startle his partner any more than necessary.  
  
"Blair, until she recognized me as a friend, and not a threat, she was seriously considering attacking. As soon as she figured I belonged there, she lowered her guard. It's pretty obvious that she's used to trouble and used to having to fight her own battles. But knowing her past, that could mean just about anything." Jim looked up and focused his attention on the hallway. A tired looking doctor was heading their way. Both of them stood, waiting for news.  
  
"Are you two the police officers here with the Fortaleza girl?"  
  
"Yes, we are." He answered before his partner could start correcting the Doctor's impression.  
  
"I'm Dr. Gillespie. She'll be fine in a day or two. She has a minor concussion, which is part of why she passed out. The bullet skimmed her side without doing any major damage, just blood loss. It took a lot of stitches, but there are no broken ribs, so the would will heal fairly quickly. You said she's been out of the country? Would you know where?" The gray-haired doctor was watching them carefully as he spoke.  
  
"I think she just came back from South America." Blair answered him. "Why?"  
  
"Oh, just a thought. Her blood work came back a little odd. We just want to run some more tests to clear up a few things."  
  
"Odd?" Jim asked. "How so?"  
  
"It's nothing, just a little off." The doctor jotted a note on the file in his hand. "Nothing to worry about. Her blood count is a bit anemic. We'll give her a few extra antibiotics just to be on the safe side until the tests come back."  
  
"When can we see her?" Jim glanced at the doctor, wondering what was going on. The man didn't seem worried, instead he seemed pleased. Almost as if having something different come through the ER was a good thing.  
  
"You can't. She's resting right now. We'll be keeping her overnight. If you come back tomorrow, you can question her then." He smiled ingratiatingly. "If you want, we can have security keep a watch on her room.  
  
"She's a material witness, Doctor, not a suspect." Jim spoke quietly, but firmly. "We're her friends. We just want to check on her."  
  
"Then, by all means, let her rest until tomorrow. It would be much better for her." That said, the doctor turned and walked away.  
  
Jim stretched, checking the time. He smiled grimly. "Come on, Chief, if we leave now, maybe we can get some sleep before going in to the station."  
  
"Aw, man, don't tell me we have to be there early." Sandburg groaned as he put on his coat. When Jim's hand reached for him, Blair dodged with a grin. "Ya missed, old man."  
  
  
  
Cascade General Hospital, a private room.  
  
AJ slowly sat up, trying to ignore the pain in her head and side. The room around her was white, white walls, white ceiling, white floor tiles, it had to be a hospital. All around her machines monitored her body, tracking her heart, her respiration, and her blood pressure. She grimaced as she noted the IV lines going into her arm. Between the medications added to her glucose drip and the concussion she received earlier that night, she could barely keep her eyes open. She looked around gingerly, noting the absence of company. Good, maybe that meant she had a chance to escape.  
  
"And just where do you think you are going?" The voice boomed at her, making her head pound harder. The doctor's cold hand wrapped itself around her wrist, making her shudder.  
  
"I'm leaving." She stared at the man, trying to find his name. Finally she gave up, certain it wasn't in her memory.  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Pardon? No entiendo." I don't understand. Why was he asking such ridiculous questions. She swung her legs off the bed. The hand on her wrist tightened.  
  
"You have a concussion. Do you know your name?"  
  
"My name is AJ Fortaleza. Who are you?" Between the concussion and her accent, the words slurred as they rolled off her lips. She looked around the room, trying to focus on its location. The Lord knew she hated hospitals. This had to be on a different floor from the ER. She remembered the attack at her apartment and abruptly she felt her brain kick into high gear. Where were Blair and his Sentinel? She faced the doctor. "Where is Sandburg? He wasn't hurt, was he? What happened after Ellison arrived?"  
  
The doctor continued his examination of her, ignoring her questions. She wondered if they had run her records yet. Maybe she could get out before they got too far. Before too many people noticed.  
  
"Agie? Odd name. You've been admitted to Cascade General Hospital. You have a concussion and seventeen stitches. Dr. Gillespie is pending any further treatment on the results of your blood work." He still hadn't looked at her, hadn't met her eyes. He was supposed to be her doctor. Or was he? He treated her as if she was a small child, refusing to answer her questions about her care, her condition, and her friends. But then again, she probably couldn't call them friends, associates was a better word. Friends were a whole different matter, with friends she would not have to hide so much.  
  
"I am not staying. I want to go home." But she knew she really didn't have any such place. There never had been a home. Never would be one either. She just wanted to get to safety before the world dissolved into chaos again.  
  
For the first time, the doctor looked at her, meeting her eyes. He was young, not much older than she was. His eyes were odd, at least for what she thought of as a doctor. There was none of the warmth that she naturally expected of a healer. She knew that there would be no recourse, he would join her enemies the moment they arrived. She had to get out of there and get out fast. They were coming, she could feel it in her bones. If she closed her eyes, she knew what she could see; flames burning high around the altars, knives pressing into skin, blood flowing on the old stones. AJ forced her mind away from the visions. The room wavered around her before solidifying again.  
  
"No. With a concussion like yours, you were unconscious for several hours, we always keep the patient for at least a day, sometimes several days. Also, we have the anomalous blood work we got from you, we're still waiting for the test results. And then there's the wound in your side. You are not going anywhere." The man's tone was pompous and condescending. "Only your parents can sign you out. So you can just stay put for now."  
  
"What? Who are you? I am old enough to check myself out of here. Where is Sandburg? He'll tell you." She demanded angrily.  
  
The infuriating man patted her shoulder and advised her to rest. Adding information to her chart, he walked away, muttering about the flightiness of injured women.  
  
  
  
She waited until he was gone, talking to the nurses at the far end of the hall. Then, very carefully she studied the monitors. It was hard, but she managed to force her eyes to focus on the fine print. One by one, she turned them off and disconnected herself from their wires. The last machine linked to her was the IV. She turned it around and looked at it, figuring out the mechanics of it and its tiny instructions. With a grimace she pushed a pair of buttons, waiting for the alarm. When it didn't go off, she smiled and began removing the IV lines.  
  
The room wavered as she stood. The walls flowed oddly, curving together and wavering before her eyes. Finally they straightened, becoming solid again. Gritting her teeth against the nausea that standing caused, she forced herself to walk to the clothes folded on the dresser. Once her vision had cleared again, she began pulling on her clothes, preparing to escape the cold white room. Nothing was going to keep her here. Nothing and no one.  
  
  
  
852 Prospect, Apt 307  
  
Blair was sitting at the table, typing on his laptop when the phone rang. He jumped, startled by the shrill sound. Instinctively he grabbed at it, trying to keep from waking Jim. As he listened to the voice on the other end of the line, he saved his work, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to work any longer.  
  
"Mr. Blair Sandburg?" The voice was not anyone he knew.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"This is Tina, from Cascade General. You are listed as the contact person for..." The woman's voice stumbled over the name, "Alessandre J Fortaleza?"  
  
"What happened to AJ?" His voice rose, cracking in panic. She'd been sleeping but okay when they'd left her. It was bad enough that she'd been hurt trying to protect him, but if anything else had happened, the Dean was going to kill him. "Please, tell me that she's all right."  
  
He could hear his Sentinel moving around up in his room. Blair knew that hearing the panic in his voice and jump in his heart rate was enough to wake Jim. Jim's voice came down the stairs ahead of him. "Sandburg?"  
  
"We're not sure. She seems to have left the hospital. Did she go home?" Tina's voice was hesitant.  
  
"Can you wait a minute? We need to check."  
  
He looked up to see the pale blue eyes of his friend watching him over the railing. The other man was dialing a number on his cell phone. Their eyes stayed connected as Jim spoke to the security officer guarding Fortaleza's apartment. Thanks to the many artifacts and the broken lock, it was being watched by campus security. He read the negative response and closed his eyes. His thoughts began racing as he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, he knew he should be able to guess where she'd be. Jim thanked the officer and began to dress.  
  
"No, she hasn't turned up there." He listened to the woman on the other end. "Yeah, we'll start looking for her. . . No, I don't want you contacting the police and putting an APB out on her, at least not yet. We'll take care of it. . . Yes, I'm sure. Thank you."  
  
"How long has she been missing, Chief?" Jim's voice was soft, worried as he came down the stairs.  
  
"They're not sure, maybe two hours." Blair stood and went to the balcony door. "It's snowing again and she doesn't even have a coat, man."  
  
"Where would she go?" Jim was pulling equipment out from under the stairs, at Blair's comment about the coat he grabbed an old jacket and tossed it onto the pile. "Come on, Blair, think. Where would she run?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You're the only person who knows her. You're the only chance she has." Blair watched as the older man laid out their survival gear. Their eyes met briefly. "Where would she go to hide, where would she feel safe?"  
  
"I don't know of anywhere she's been since she arrived." He felt the tension in his chest as he began to think about AJ in the midst of Cascade in a snowstorm. In the past three weeks since her arrival, he'd only seen her working. She'd always politely declined to join him in anything outside of work, remaining behind at her apartment. The tension hardened into a fist of pain. He couldn't focus beyond the sudden tightness and everything began going gray.  
  
"Breathe, Sandburg!" The roughly growled command shook him, grabbing his attention as Jim grabbed his shoulders. "That's it, breathe in and let it go. Again, breathe in and let it go. Keep it slow and steady. That's better."  
  
A firm hand was resting against his chest, measuring each breath he took. The other was wrapped around his arm, holding him against a hard form in a half hug. Blair looked over to meet his sentinel's worried eyes. The other man smiled slightly as he realized that Blair was back in control. "We'll find her, Chief."  
  
The younger man leaned against him gratefully. His mind was racing. "The only places she's been are her apartment, campus and . . ." He looked up, eyes brightening as he had an idea. "the museum. If she isn't at the apartment, she'll be there."  
  
Jim nodded tersely and grabbed the bag he'd packed with emergency supplies. "Grab your coat and let's go."  
  
When they finally caught up with Fortaleza, he planned on having a long talk with her. No one pulled a stunt like this on his watch, not when it sent his Guide off on panic attacks. Tamping down his anger as unproductive and dangerous in this weather, Jim led the way out of the loft and down to the truck.  
  
  
  
They made the trip to the natural history museum in near silence. A trip that normally took twenty minutes had taken them well over an hour. The slow drive through the falling snow gave him too much time to think. Blair's active mind with images of disaster.  
  
"It's not your fault, Chief." Jim's voice startled him, as they pulled up to the museum.  
  
"How did you know what I was thinking?" He turned to meet his Sentinel's eyes.  
  
Jim lightly cuffed his shoulder. "It's pretty obvious, Darwin. You've been silent for most of the drive here and your face is expressive enough to read. You had nothing to do with her taking off in the middle of a snowstorm."  
  
"If I'd stayed at the hospital, she might still be there. She might still be safe."  
  
"You are not responsible for her, she's an adult."  
  
"But she was raised in another culture, she's not used to this place. She doesn't know about snow and city life, Jim. It's part of my job as her assistant to make sure she stays safe until she leaves." He zipped his jacket, preparing to leave the warmth of the truck.  
  
"No, Chief. It's your job to help her with the museum show. It's not your job to baby-sit." Jim's face was grim. If Fortaleza was here, the lady was going to hear it from him. His roommate had been in a near panic since they'd heard from the hospital. No one was allowed to make his Guide feel this guilty over something he had no control over. The anxiety attack had nearly sent Jim over the edge. Fortaleza's behavior was about to get her in deep trouble with a very angry Sentinel.  
  
  
  
The museum guard was waiting for them at the entrance. Once he'd opened the door for them, he'd taken off at a fast pace, leading down one of the dark halls. The grizzled old man moved as if he were far younger than the age his face proclaimed him to be.  
  
"I've searched the exhibit they've been working on, Detective. No sign of the girl." The man smiled faintly. "Of course, she's a spry child and could anywhere in the place. She's the one who hung all the weapons and things from the rafters. She probably knows the place better than I do."  
  
"What do you mean?" Blair asked, bouncing slightly as an idea began racing through him. "I thought she'd only been here the time I brought her."  
  
"Oh, no. That girl has stayed here every weekend since she arrived. And she works here whenever you are too busy with your police buddies." The man chuckled at the look on the anthropologist's face. He loved being able to surprise people with his knowledge.  
  
"She's been here that much?"  
  
"Eyah. Like clockwork. She wants this exhibit to be perfect for Mr. Zel." The man grinned as he reminisced. "She tells all kinds of stories about each piece and how she or Zel got it and what it means. Every guard here knows the crazy kid."  
  
Blair looked shocked at the information he'd just received. The idea that the young woman had been working so hard when he wasn't around bothered him. Then it occurred to him that AJ had regularly run him out of the apartment, insisting that he rest and relax, but had worked both at the apartment and the museum. In fact, she had been at the museum enough that the guards easily recognized her. The double standard was infuriating. The thoughts that crossed his mind were reflected on his face.  
  
"Come on, Chief. Let's find her first, then you can yell at her." Jim's voice was soft as he followed the security guard.  
  
"After all the times she chased me out, ordering me to go home." Blair's voice was grim as he contemplated the situation.  
  
"She only has the one job. You have your classes, this project, your research, and the station." The bigger man was extending his senses, noting the information he was gathering as they entered the unfinished exhibit. He smelled dust, ancient leather, fresh cut wood and herbs, and more. The scent of the herbs caught his attention as he began categorizing them. Traces of sage, wormwood, valerian, cinnamon, cloves, mint, and several others that he could not recognize or name teased his nose. Then it hit him, he smelled ayuahuaste and yaje. As the scent of the powerful herbs filled his senses, Jim staggered back a step.  
  
"Jim?" A warm hand rubbed his back, clearing his head.  
  
"I'm okay." He growled.  
  
"What is it, big guy?"  
  
Jim ignored the question. He lengthened his stride, passing the startled guard and stepping onto a display. His hands were gentle as he picked up a carved wooden bowl. He focused on it, his eyes picking up the traces of moisture, chamomile and mint leaves. It had been used recently. A small pouch lying on the display caught his attention.  
  
Made of pale leather, it was decorated with an entwined spiral design. It was sewn shut with bright red thread, the pattern a warning as well as seal against the contents getting out of the pouch. He focused his sense of smell on it. The pouch was filled with dried yaje. With a trembling hand he gingerly picked it up. The mere thought of the power of this drug was enough to worry him. It could easily be stronger than the Golden they ran into, and that drug nearly killed his partner. Why did she have something like this here? He pulled a plastic evidence bag from a pocket and placed the pouch in it.  
  
"Hold this for me, Chief." He handed the sealed bag to Blair and stood, looking around. Something was eluding him, but it was too hard to focus on, too diffuse.  
  
Blair began speaking softly, far too softly for the security guard to hear. "All right, Jim. Concentrate. Remove the extraneous scents. Layer by layer; take out everything that doesn't matter. Do you remember what AJ smells like? Remember how my jacket smelled the day I lent it to her. Try to isolate that scent."  
  
Jim listened to his Guide. He identified scents and removed them as unimportant. Finally he was down to a few scents. His eyes widened as he labeled them. He could smell AJ, her scent was strong here. It was layered over all the displays in the unfinished exhibit. Over and around him it swirled, part of the air itself. It was covered with the fresh scent of blood and ... something else. Something that stirred memories but could not be identified and that bothered him.  
  
"Got it." He turned away from his partner and focused on the security guard. "Is there any other way into this exhibit?"  
  
"No, sir. Just this entrance. The other one is locked up tighter than Fort Knox."  
  
"Well, she was here." Jim pointed to a smudge of blood on one of the closer displays. "If there is no access to water, she's probably elsewhere. Why don't you check the next level. I want to check out this area."  
  
The older man nodded at the detective and left, happy to be of assistance. Blair fought a grin as he recognized Jim's ploy. After the man left, he quietly closed the hall doors and turned to his partner.  
  
"Good work. Now, you have her scent locked down?" Blair's voice paused for the Sentinel's nod. "Okay, piggyback your hearing to your sense of smell. Listen for her heartbeat. There shouldn't be anyone else here. Once you have her heartbeat locked in, then you can focus on finding her location."  
  
The deep voice kept him from zoning on the scents. He linked his hearing to the scents, focusing on the upper level of the hall, near the air vents. It took him a moment and then he heard her. The soft thump of her heart as it pushed blood through her body. He listened, hearing the irregular and rapid pace that denoted a problem. Then she whimpered, a low-pitched cry that broke off almost before she could finish it. They needed to get to her fast.  
  
He frowned, tracing the sound and the scent. She was on the far side of the long hallway. There. He opened his eyes and followed the sound up into the rafters. He could see the opening but could not believe it. He looked again, but that was the only opening in the wall.  
  
"I found her, Chief." The clipped tone made his Guide pause.  
  
"And the news is?" Blair's pale face told its story. He was worried and getting more so.  
  
"She's up there." He pointed up into the rafters, focusing on the little opening. Scaffolding went partially up to the ceiling. From there, a system of strung ropes and wires traced patterns through the air, linking the scaffolding to the open rafters and joists. This was not going to be easy, even for him. The thought of Blair trying to cross the open spaces was enough to make him pause uncertainly.  
  
"Aw, great. This is absolutely great!" Blair's eyes went wide as he measured the height involved and the distance between the ropes. The panic in the smaller man's eyes slowly made its way to his face, hardening it. The jaw tensed, causing harsh planes to form. The look that he gave Jim was icy with despair. "Why did she have to go to ground twenty feet up? She knows how I feel about heights."  
  
"Stay here. I'll climb up and take a look."  
  
"No. You can't go up there without me to watch your back." The anthropologist sounded resigned.  
  
"I'll be fine, Sandburg. You can stay here and talk me through any zones from the ground."  
  
They slowly walked over to the scaffolding. Jim paused, removing his jacket before beginning his climb. There, smeared against one of the steel poles was a patch of dried blood. He looked at it, noting the height and the amount. Fortaleza was bleeding again. It was very possible she had ripped out her stitches just trying to climb the scaffolding.  
  
The climb up the scaffolding was easy. The rungs and break levels had been set for someone much shorter than he was. It had probably been arranged for Fortaleza. He remembered how small she'd seemed when he'd held her earlier that night. She was easily a good three or four inches shorter than Sandburg. It only took him minutes to reach the top level. From there he looked at the oddly spaced ropes.  
  
Fortaleza had set them up in a way that made him look twice. He studied the ropes and smiled. It looked like there was only one path in which all the ropes were anchored securely. The others were weighted with flying artifacts, stabilized high rising displays, or were rigged to be unstable. He could see the netting that would soon hold up a false forest canopy. Part of the room was already covered by the canopy. In a few days this tangle of ropes would be hidden, as would be her hiding place. Even now it was hard to find. If he hadn't been a Sentinel, he'd have never found it.  
  
"Can you get over to her?" Blair's voice in his ear made him turn around. The younger man's knuckles were white from his grip on the railing. His face was pale and tense.  
  
"I thought I told you to stay on the ground!"  
  
"Yeah, you did. But a Guide stays with his Sentinel." The wry grin was lopsided. He ducked the cuff that headed his way. "Come on, man, let's get this done so we can get down."  
  
"This time you stay put!" Ellison growled threateningly.  
  
"Me? Cross the room on a rope? No way!"  
  
The tight voiced reply almost reassured him. He grinned at his friend and grabbed a rope. Blair's quiet moan accompanied him away from the scaffold.  
  
  
  
The journey was far easier than he'd expected. Between his added height and heavier weight, Jim found that the ropes were spaced almost perfectly for him. What to the woman was probably a slight reach was to him a simple hand-off. Where the ropes would have swung crazily under a lesser weight, his weight steadied them, slowed their swing.  
  
  
  
Finally, he reached the opening in the wall. It looked like an air vent, its metal grill partially disguised by cream colored paint. He looked around, wondering how she'd first found this place. None of the ceiling joists came near the grill. He shook his head and tugged gently. The hinged grill opened quietly, releasing the scent of fresh oil.  
  
Jim winced as he pulled himself into the vent. It was going to be a tight fit. He slid himself in the opening and noticed that after an abrupt turn, it opened into a decent tunnel. This was definitely not an air vent, even if it was connected to the air system. The stone walls suddenly opened out into a small room, no more than six feet to a side. It had no other entrance that he could see, but somehow the room displayed an airiness that was unexpected. He decided it had to be due to the painted murals on the walls and ceiling, all light colored forest scenes.  
  
He stared, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. What was this room doing here? He scanned the room quickly. He could see the marks where heavy shelving had been removed. A soft sound made him turn his attention away from the puzzle. He would have to remember to ask Blair about it. The anthropologist would find the answer, if he didn't already know it.  
  
Against the far wall was a huddled, shivering figure in a nest of heavy blankets. As his eyes rapidly adjusted to the room, he noticed an abundance of supplies. The room was stocked as if she expected to stay a long time. There was no way she had done this on the spur of the moment. This practically shouted that she expected trouble and planned ahead for it. He frowned as he began to get a picture that he really didn't want to see. Either she was being hunted or she knew something that she hadn't told them about. The fear and paranoia that would provoke this kind of a response was too close to bad memories of his own. He tried to shake off the feeling as he knelt beside the figure.  
  
Fortaleza was still and pale, her skin cold and clammy to his fingertips. At his touch, her eyes flew open and she turned, looking at him in shock. The move made her inhale sharply from pain, trying to stifle her outcry. Pale silvery green eyes met his and focused on him.  
  
"Go away, Sentinel. Go take care of your Guide and your village." Her whispered words hit him hard, brought the entire focus of his eyes on hers.  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"Not the first I've met. It's obvious if you know what to look for. Besides I was told there was a Sentinel in Washington." She whispered softly, painfully. The bruises she had received stood out darkly against her pale skin. She lay passively, watching him with dull eyes.  
  
"You worried Sandburg."  
  
"How?"  
  
"The hospital called him when you disappeared."  
  
"Sorry. I didn't think they would." She turned her head away from his, shrugging further under the wool blanket.  
  
"Come on, he's waiting for us." Some instinct kept him from grabbing her and pulling her out of her warm nest. He didn't want her to bolt. The chances that she might get out of the room were too great. She could easily end up on the floor below the tunnel, badly hurt, if he wasn't careful.  
  
"Tell him I'm sorry and to go home."  
  
"He won't leave without you."  
  
When she made no attempt to move, Jim sat next to her, taking in the information her body could not hide from his senses. Either the medication from the hospital or the concussion had her eyes slightly unfocused. Her heart beat rapidly, skipping an occasional beat. Her shivers were acute, the temperature of the skin under his gently questing fingers low, well below normal. Her breathing was shallow and there was the first trace of congestion in the sound of one lung. With a sigh, he raised her to a sitting position and began unbuttoning her shirt. When she grabbed his wrist, he pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and into her hand He then slipped the shirt from her shoulders impassively. Blood stained her camisole over the thickness of her bandaged wound. Raising his eyebrow, he gestured at it. Fortaleza closed her eyes, tactically granting him permission to look. He moved her camisole out of the way. As he touched the bandage, she curled forward from the pain of his touch. The blanket slipped from her grasp, baring her back and shoulders before she could grab it.  
  
Jim inhaled sharply at the sight. Her back was covered with old scars, the skin seamed with the marks of a whip. The tattoos that circled her upper arms before crossing her upper back and shoulders were ones he recognized from his past. She shivered, pulling the blanket up to her chin.  
  
"Who are you?" He asked softly, not really wanting the answer. He didn't want to hear what he already knew. He didn't want her to confirm that an old debt had just been called in. The band of tattoos marked a promise, life for life, between the Walks Through People and Chopec People. During his time with the Chopec, Incacha had told him how the Walks Through People had arrived in time to help the Chopec fight off a group of drug manufacturers. In exchange for that assistance, the Chopec promised to keep an eye out for one of the Walks Through, the one they called the Hildalga. Incacha had taught Jim the tattoos that marked Hildalga's shoulders, making him promise to keep an eye on the wandering amaru if he ever met her. "You can't be... you are way too young."  
  
"I am no one. Please, just go away. I won't bother you or your Guide." Even to a Sentinel's hearing her words were almost inaudible. She refused to look at him as she burrowed deeper into the blankets. Jim sighed. It was obvious that if he let her get away with it, she would ignore both that debt and her own illness. Unfortunately, no matter how much he would like to, he couldn't let her get away with either action.  
  
"I'll leave if you come too. We need to get back to Sandburg soon, he's getting impatient out there." Jim kept his voice low, coaxing. Every story Sandburg had told him about her had been full of color and action. Even the few times he had met her, she had been a bundle of carefully caged energy, totally focused on her goal of defusing the tension and worries of the Sentinel. She had done a very good job of it, too, he mused. It would have been easier if she had called in the debt the Chopec owed her. Instead she had stood on her own, letting Jim make up his own mind about her. Today she was pale and quiet, the complete opposite of what he'd expected. In fact, she appeared fragile. She looked too young to be the respected anthropologist he knew her to be. He smiled grimly as he realized that he was still skirting the problem of her tribal affiliations, even in his own mind.  
  
"Go, take him home. I'll see him in a few days, when I feel better." She murmured, her eyes meeting his, steely with determination. She forced herself to sit straight, but he could tell it was an effort. "I am just a little tired right now."  
  
"I can't leave you here and you know it. You need to go back to the hospital. You're going into shock." Jim spoke, softly as he began to lift her up.  
  
AJ's eyes widened and with a sudden move, she broke his hold and skittered away from him. Resting against the far wall, she stared in his direction. Her pulse was racing, her breathing was rapid. The fear in her eyes was reflected in the scent of her sweat. Her voice was suddenly harsh and broken. "No! I'm not going to any hospital. I'm fine!"  
  
"You left blood tracks on the way here."  
  
"I tripped. The bleeding stopped hours ago." The lie was loud to his senses, as her heart skipped at the lie.  
  
"I smell fresh blood. You need treatment."  
  
"No hospitals. I'd rather die first." Her words were firm and unequivocal. Jim read her heartbeat , the tension in her body and the controlled panic in her eyes. There was little room for doubt in her serious words. She would really rather die than go back.  
  
"All right, no hospitals." Jim knew when to give in. This was not a battle for today. Not if he wanted to help her now. He might be able to overpower her, but from the look of terror on her face, it would be a hard fight. She didn't have the resources to waste on that fight, so he had to find another way to take care of her. "Look, I was a medic in the army. Let me take a look at it. If the stitches aren't torn out I can just rebandage your wound and then I'll leave you alone."  
  
She stared at him, her green eyes measuring him, reading his intentions for a long moment. Finally, with a slow, regal nod she agreed. Jim released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Silently, he pulled the blanket away from her side and knew it was going to be bad. He stared at the blood soaked bandage. He gently ran his hand along it, dialing his sense of touch up to feel through the gauze. Even that much pressure was too much. She jerked away and he barely caught her as she nearly passed out from the pain. He bit back a curse and laid her on the nest of blankets. A moment later, he was racing through the short tunnel.  
  
"Sandburg!" His voice echoed through the vacant hall. His partner looked over at him, startled by his abrupt appearance. He hoped his Guide would understand what he needed. "I need the medical kit and she'll need the spare coat."  
  
Blair paled, understanding dawning on his face. He looked around and noticed that the security guard still hadn't returned. He gestured slightly, holding out his cell phone. The Sentinel thought for a moment and then shook his head. If the woman was this adamant against hospitals, they'd have to restrain her to keep her there. That idea bothered him. If she really had a reason to fear, she'd be defenseless. He couldn't do that; he'd promised not to send her to the hospital.  
  
The younger man raced down the ladder, nearly flying down to the floor. Jim watched his partner, wondering if he'd end up taking care of two wounded people. Shaking his head, he slid back through the tunnel and into the room. He needed to get that bleeding stopped now.  
  
  
  
Blair stood at the top of the scaffolding and took a deep breath. He really didn't want to do this, but he had a feeling it was necessary. He could always just yell for Jim, but what if he distracted him at a bad moment. The Sentinel wanted his medical kit, and that meant AJ was hurt so he didn't want to make it worse.  
  
Having made his decision, he stripped off his coat and laid it next to the spare he had brought with the medkit. Then he tied the medical kit to his belt and reached out for a rope. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and sent a prayer out to whichever deity kept an eye out for Guides. This had to be one of the worst ideas he'd ever had. He just hoped he remembered the path Jim had taken earlier.  
  
  
  
Jim was trying to get Fortaleza to drink some water from one of her canteens when he heard the noise. He looked up, trying to analyze the sound. He heard the soft whoosh of air as it was forcibly displaced from his Guide's lungs. It was followed by the quiet, almost inaudible, groan as a rope received his weight. The next sound was the gentle shush of his passage through the air. Throughout the whole was the rapid tattoo of his terrified heartbeat.  
  
It only took Jim a moment to recognize the importance of those sounds. His Guide was crossing the ropes, coming to his assistance. *He was going to kill Sandburg*. What was the younger man thinking to risk himself like this. He growled to himself, causing the young woman's eyes to open.  
  
"Shh, it's okay. I'll be right back." He gently settled her back onto her nest of blankets, trying to reassure her.  
  
"Sandburg?" The pale woman's eyes lit up with amusement. He watched her momentarily, his emotions warring between curiosity and unease. For all of Blair's denials, he kept wondering exactly what was between them. At his nod, she smiled and closed her eyes. Her words and tone were laughing, echoing his feeling of confused bemusement exactly. "He will not let you do anything without his help? Typical Blair. Go rescue your Guide before he gets into trouble."  
  
He grimaced and then had to chuckle. It sounded like she knew his partner fairly well. He looked up as he listened to Blair's progress. The worry reasserted itself and he turned away, sliding through the narrow entranceway. At the vent grill he paused, watching as the long-haired man caught the last rope. Maybe he should get him to audition for the next Tarzan movie, he looked like a natural if you ignored the pale face. Nah, Sandburg would not like the suggestion.  
  
Wordlessly, he reached out his hand as Blair approached the vent. The other man's eyes met his, focusing on his face and refusing to look anywhere else. Blair's firmly controlled fear reflected strongly enough in his eyes to make Jim's stomach turn. Once again he was angry with Fortaleza for putting them through this. When she wasn't so ill he was going to have to discuss endangering Blair with her. She had given him her word and he meant to see that she kept it.  
  
Blair's hand met his and gripped hard, the muscles in his forearms straining. With an effortless tug, the ex-Ranger pulled him into the tunnel. Although no longer crossing the gulf between the hideaway and the scaffolding, he was still shaky from fear. The gasping breaths, racing heart, and sweaty skin could all be attributed to his exertions, but not the complete collapse of his muscles.  
  
"Easy, Chief. You made it." Jim kept his words soft, as he comforted his friend. He looked across the distance, still mildly surprised that Sandburg had crossed it on his own without any encouragement or assistance.  
  
After a moment, he gently relieved him of the medical pack and began backing down the narrow passageway. No matter how much he wanted to remain with his partner, Jim knew he had to get back to the hidden room.  
  
"How is she?" Blair's eyes were worried as he slowly followed the Sentinel through he tunnel.  
  
"She tore out some of her stitches and she's shocky. " The detective's voice was harsh as it grated against the stone walls. "She refused to go back to the hospital to get them fixed."  
  
"And you're not taking her there anyway?" The smaller man was looking at him curiously, his eyes filled with amazement. "Why? I've seen you bully Simon into taking care of himself. I won't even comment about you being my personal 'mother-hen'. So how does she get away it? The famous 'Jim Ellison blessed protector to the rescue' syndrome should be going full throttle by now. Are you saying its not?"  
  
"She reacts to the word 'hospital' worse than you react to heights. It's a gut level reaction, pure and utter terror." Jim's voice was flat, his jaw tense. He looked away and then back, meeting the other man's eyes, his own bleak. "If she even thinks she's going back to the hospital she'll bolt..."  
  
"And this time, we wouldn't find her." The anthropologist finished the unspoken thought quietly.  
  
"Not before it was too late." He responded coldly, knowing it would hurt his friend if something happened to her. He lowered himself into the room, turning and heading for Fortaleza.  
  
Behind him, he heard Blair pause before slowly whistling in amazement as he took in the view. There was a slight quaver in the sound as the full effect of the hidden room took effect. Each wall was covered in a floor to ceiling mural. Waterfalls and trees, nymphs and dryads, wildlife and whimsical animals turned the walls into a beautiful forest glade. The ceiling was painted a soft blue with a few traces of whispy clouds crossing it. The tunnel that had led into the room appeared to be a hole in one of the trees.  
  
  
  
Although small, between the murals and muted lighting that came from partially concealed openings and vents, the room made quite an impression. After a moment, he jumped down the slight distance, still trying to accept the sight. His words were barely breathed, much less spoken, "Oh, my... I had heard rumors about a hidden room, but this is... wow!"  
  
"Like it, Blair?" AJ's accent was a pale imitation of its normal sassy sound.  
  
He smiled at her, crossing the room rapidly to crouch beside her. "Oh, yeah, it's nice. You're a good decorator. So, you built this when you built the musuem?"  
  
She chuckled and grimaced. "Don' make me laugh, chibato."  
  
Jim looked up from the medical supplies he was unpacking. Catching his partner's eye, he motioned for him to support her and gently helped her sit up. The younger man slid behind her, holding her upright, while the older man quickly striped the layered blankets off her. He then cut the bloody bandage and removed it. AJ watched impassively, only looking away when Blair gripped her hand in reassurance. When the Sentinel pulled out a vial of painkiller from his kit and began to prep the needle, she frowned and stopped him.  
  
"No." her voice was cold.  
  
"Look, kid." Jim's voice was hard-edged. "If you want to stay out of the hospital..."  
  
"No drugs." She wrapped her hand around his, covering the syringe. She turned to the younger man, noting his pale face, and grimaced. "Get my medicine bag, please."  
  
"AJ, Jim's not too keen on alternative drugs."  
  
"Do it!" Her eyes flashed fiercely, as she glared at him. She turned back to Ellison. "Please, no drugs, they're not worth the problems they will cause. I have other things that will keep me still while you retie the stitches. Ones that won't cause the kinds of reactions modern drugs do."  
  
Jim's jaw clenched tightly, the back teeth grinding together. With a small smile, she ran her finger along the twitching muscle. He closed his eyes, trying not to lose his temper with her. When he reopened his eyes, she smiled again and held out a small tube of ointment. He inhaled, testing the scent and relaxing. He recognized it as a mixture of painkiller and germicide that Incacha had used on him long ago. He nodded and took the vial from her fingers.  
  
"Thank you, Enqueri." Lines of pain formed on her face as she let them slowly settle her back onto the nest of blankets. Her eyes closed in relief as the Sentinel spread the ointment on her wound.  
  
"Jim?" Blair's voice made him look around. The younger man was watching them curiously. "You never told me that you knew her."  
  
"I don't, Blair." He looked away to grab the suture kit. He looked back up to meet the confused eyes of his Guide. "She knows me. Her people have known the Chopec for a long time. I'd say she probably knew who I was as soon as she made the connection between my time in Peru and the Chopec."  
  
Jim's hands moved rapidly as he cleaned the torn flesh. The only movement the young woman made was when she breathed. He probed gently, reassuring himself that the ribs were only bruised, not broken. When he was ready to place the stitches, he touched her cheek with a light finger. Her eyes sprang open and focused on his. Seeing the look on his face, she took a deep breath and set her jaw before nodding to him.  
  
"Blair, even with this stuff, she is going to react when I put the stitches in. I need you to hold her down. Don't let her move." Jim kept his voice low, knowing that even if she heard him, she didn't need to hear his worry. He could not believe that he was doing this. As he finished preparing the suture, he glanced again at the odd-colored tattoos on her bared shoulder, reminding himself of the reason he was going against his better judgment. "Ready?"  
  
Blair moved to kneel at AJ's head and rested his weight on her upper arms. He nodded and watched as his partner straddled her legs. Their eyes met and then Jim looked down to begin stitching the woman's wound. Blair wondered exactly what she was holding over the big man. He'd rarely seen him back down and yet he did for Fortaleza.  
  
At the first touch of the needle, she tensed and then her body froze. Blair looked down to see her eyes fix themselves on the ceiling and then they were blank. It was almost as if she was gone, no longer there. He swallowed thickly, wondering how he was going to bring her back.  
  
"One more stitch." Jim's voice was hard, as were his eyes. Part of him wanted to rage at the way things were going and the other part just wanted to turn back time and send the troublesome woman back to South America. He tied off the last stitch and looked up as he prepared the new bandages. "Done. Wake her up, Chief."  
  
"I don't know how." Blair looked down at the unfocused eyes. He raised a hand to her face and stroked her cheek. He tried using his Guide voice that worked so well when Jim was zoning. "AJ. AJ, come on. Wake up."  
  
She didn't respond. He stared at her and then realized that her skin had turned clammy and was getting cooler. He moved his hand to her chest and felt the slow moving heartbeat, measuring the shallow breaths. He slapped her cheek lightly, his own heart rate picking up. Then he felt her heart skip a beat. "Don't do this, please, AJ This is, like, so not good for my karma."  
  
Jim taped the bandage over the new stitches and frowned. He pulled her camisole back down over the bandage before slapping her lightly on the cheek. When she stayed motionless, he shook her shoulder, putting a bit of force into the movement. As she continued lying passively, ignoring them both, he felt his temper snap. He growled low in his chest. He hadn't wanted to do this. He hadn't wanted to listen to her fears and allow her to avoid the hospital. There was no way he was going to allow her to get away with this, too.  
  
He moved abruptly, pulling Fortaleza up against his chest. Her unfocused eyes stared at him as he began speaking in a harsh growl. Quechua words fell from his lips as he vented his fury. Her eyes finally stirred and focused on him, wrinkling in confusion before comprehension dawned.  
  
"Enqueri?" She whispered at his vehemence. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go that far."  
  
"DON'T DO THAT AGAIN!" The low roar echoed in the small room.  
  
"OK, no more trances." She whispered, swallowing rapidly at his fury. Her eyes barely met his as she asked the Sentinel, "let me down now?"  
  
Furious eyes, like pale lasers burned into her eyes. The steely grip on her shoulders was going to leave bruises. She could already feel them forming. AJ didn't try to move, she knew better. She'd heard about his anger and had been warned never to rouse it against herself. She'd read his files, she knew what he was capable of doing and she had still gotten him angry. Now she was paying the price for her error. Then he spoke again, still holding his anger barely under control. "If you ever scare Blair like that again, ever make his heart race in fear, I will make you regret it. Do you understand me, Hidalga?"  
  
"Uh, Jim..." Blair tried to speak, but Jim's icy glare silenced him.  
  
AJ blushed. Ellison had finally recognized her. She had hoped he would not put two and two together, but it was too late now. Like it or not she had a Sentinel keeping an eye on her again. When he realized she purposefully avoided him for the past few weeks, he would be even more unhappy. It was much easier to search Cascade without being under a Sentinel's care. Still, she did not want the Sentinel to be angry, much less angry with her. She had some serious bridge building to do. Her voice was soft, rueful. "Yes, Enqueri. I'm sorry I scared you, Blair. I'm sorry if I worried either of you."  
  
"I promised to keep an eye on the Hidalga, if I ever met her. The Chopec owe the Walks People and we promised to watch out for you. Incacha warned me that you were very good at both getting into trouble and hiding it. You're almost as good at it as Sandburg is." The Sentinel's fingers loosened as his voice lowered. When he was certain she could sit without his assistance, he released her shoulders. He looked around for a moment and then shrugged, unbuttoning his shirt. He removed it and wrapped it around her, over the blankets she had pulled protectively to her chin. Once it was buttoned, he tugged on the blanket. "Let go and put your arms through the sleeves."  
  
"I can do it, myself." Her protest was muffled as he dropped a sweater, donated by Blair, over her head.  
  
"Let him do it. He's in Blessed Protector mode." The younger man watched with amusement as his partner gently manhandled her into the sweater. "It's a lot easier than trying to argue with him."  
  
"Really? So speaks the voice of experience?" Sarcasm dripped from her soft voice. Once she was clothed, she curled back into the nest of blankets. Her words were slurred as she closed her eyes. "How long did you say you were staying?"  
  
"You're not getting rid of us that easily. In fact, you're coming with us." Jim smiled grimly at the shocked expression on her face. He looked over at Blair who nodded in agreement and turned to start packing the few bags in the room. The big man turned back to his patient and began pushing socks onto her feet.  
  
"Jim?" Blair stopped his packing in shock as he stared at a bottle. His voice was quiet, but it caught both of the others' attention. He picked it up and double-checked the prescription. The original label was Spanish, but it was covered with translation stickers identifying it in many languages. He opened it and peered inside at the massive quinine pills. "What are the symptoms of malaria? Does missing your medicine have side effects?"  
  
Jim looked at the bottle and back at the wary eyed woman. He frowned. "Fever, chills, shakes, blurry vision, occasionally delirium, especially when the quinine is mixed with other drugs. That's not even taking into account the fact that the more time between onset and first dose of medication, the longer you're ill. You are even more trouble than I'd expected. How long ago did the symptoms show up? Have you taken any of this yet.?"  
  
"Three hours ago, while I was on my way here." Reluctantly she sat up, frowning as she tried to remember if she'd taken any quinine before drifting off into sleep. She shrugged at the lack of memory and winced as her wound reminded her of the reasons to avoid that movement. Her voice was a mere whisper as she admitted, "I don't remember taking any quinine."  
  
"Finish packing her stuff, Chief. I'll be back for you as soon as I get her down safely." The big man scooped her up into his arms and headed for the tunnel.  
  
"Wait. There's an easier way out." She finally gave up. There was no way she was going to out argue the Sentinel. Ellison could win this one. Besides, she really didn't want the younger man to have to go through the maze again, not with his fear of heights. It was too firmly drilled into her upbringing to risk a Guide for any reason. Sentinels were rare and to be respected for their abilities. Guides were just as rare but they seemed to have an amazing ability to get into trouble which meant they were not to be enticed into more trouble. Especially when this Guide's Sentinel was already upset with her. She would argue with them another time and another place. "Press the water nymph's eye."  
  
Blair finished stuffing things into her bags and stood. He slowly circled the room, looking at the murals until he spotted the one he was looking for. A life-sized nymph, dancing in a waterfall was staring down at him. With a grin for the picture, he reached up and tapped the nymph's eye. A low groan announced the opening door in the wall.  
  
"Cool, secret passages and hidden rooms. Any other surprises?" He commented quietly. She ignored him as they entered the passageway.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
AJ wriggled and came into contact with a source of warmth. Finally, she'd found something warm to hold onto. Instantly, she curled into the warmth, snuggling down and latching on to the heat source. As she tried to burrow herself deeper into it and away from the frigid air, hands began pushing her away. Vaguely she heard voices.  
  
"Chief, you're going to have to hold onto her. I can't drive with her in my lap."  
  
The voice was more annoyed than angry. It was speaking English, why on earth English? Was she with another American group? She started to drifted away again as firm hands and arms wrapped around her, pulling her up against someone else. This person was not as warm, though. She started to pull away from him but stopped, listening to the mellow murmur in her ear.  
  
"Easy, AJ. We're almost there." One hand strayed to her forehead. "Jim, she burning up, man. Maybe we should take her to the hospital. They're better equipped to handle this kind of thing."  
  
AJ's eyes flew open and she began fighting the arm around her waist. It refused to let go, so she resorted to dirty tricks. The feel of her head slamming into his chin was painful, doubling the pounding headache she already had. The mix of pain and dizziness nearly knocked her out. The voice retreated, moaning, but he didn't release her waist. Vaguely she heard both voices cursing and yelling as she struggled  
  
.  
  
She kept fighting, trying to break free. She only knew that she had to get away, nothing else mattered. The car? Truck? slid across the road as one of her failing fists hit the driver's side. She could hear her own voice, but it sounded wrong. Too far away, too unreal, too young to be her. It had to be a nightmare, but she couldn't wake up.  
  
"No! Lemme go!" The oddly too-young voice spoke again, cracking and breaking as it did.  
  
"Hidalga!" The first voice roared, slamming the sound into her ears. When she winced it toned down, lowering enough to be bearable. The truck, yeah, it sounded like a truck, not a car, was brought back into control. "No one's taking you to the hospital. I promise."  
  
"Cross your heart?" She tried to focus her eyes on the speaker but couldn't. Her head pounded painfully, distracting her...  
  
She wasn't sure she could trust the voice. She knew how gentle a voice could sound and how cruel the actions it covered. The arm around her loosened, thinking she was quiet and calm now. She slipped free. As the hands grabbed for her, she unlatched the door and dove over the person sitting there. The hands caught the overly large coat and she slipped out of it, landing in a bank of snow. Cold, oh it was so cold... she could feel her tears freezing on her cheeks. She scrambled to her feet, looking around, trying to make sense of what she could see.  
  
Falling snow, white swirls of blowing, falling snow. She remembered snow, lots and lots of snow. Snow for building snowmen and forts and having battles with her brothers and cousins. But that was from a long time ago... how did she know it was a long time ago. WHERE WAS SHE? Snow meant she was near her home. She began to run, run away from where she'd been. But hadn't she made a promise never to go back home again? AJ stopped, confused, maybe if her head would stop pounding, she could think better. Slowly, she turned around, trying to figure out where she was. How close was she? Maybe if she was not too close to home things would be okay.  
  
The buildings and the street were deserted. There were no people visible, only snow, snow covered streets, buildings, vehicles, and falling snow. Everything was white and shades of gray and white tinged with blue. Everything wavered and blurred alarmingly. How could this be? Where was her sight? She made out a blue pickup truck, sitting on the road, heat still rising from its hood. Its doors were hanging open as if it had been abandoned suddenly. Movement caught her eyes. The passenger was approaching her cautiously. He was young and the face was familiar. His presence was not a surprise. Or was it? Where were her brothers? Where was she? She shook her head in confusion and the motion made the world spin.  
  
"AJ? Take it easy. You're sick and need to get out of the snow." His voice was so concerned for her. Blair! That was his name, she knew him! But why was he calling her AJ? That wasn't her name, not really. At least she didn't think it was. She couldn't remember what her new name was supposed to be. Maybe she hadn't told him her name. No, she trusted him... she thought she did. AJ... yeah, that was what her knew name was. Blair felt safe, safe enough to trust. Her instincts were usually right, but she couldn't remember whether she had really trusted him, or had just befriended him.  
  
She was surprised by strong arms coming around her, pinning her arms to her sides. The man behind her knew her moves before she made them. Even as she tried to fight him, he forced her to stop. She turned her head to look at the man holding her. He was a grim-faced man, but not one of the ones she had learned to fear. He was angry with her. Too angry. . . Enqueri was not a good man to anger. He had held the pass for so long... all alone.  
  
Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of the images that danced in them. No! Now was not the time for visions, not without preparation. Flames and knives slithered behind her eyelids as she shook her head, whimpering against the invasion. She bit her lip, using the pain to vanquish them, forcing herself to focus on the man holding her so tightly.  
  
"No, Hidalga. You're not going anywhere but home." The voice was calm, holding in all the fury she could see in his expression. She lost her thread of thought as her past slammed through fever weakened barriers. She feared the controlled ones with good reason. The fear multiplied as he gently wrapped his hands around her wrists. "Blair and I are not going to hurt you. We are not the enemy."  
  
"You'll just kill me, too. Just like they killed the others." She couldn't keep from crying. She should not have come back, she wasn't ready to die. As if for the first time, she recognized the Guide whose blue eyes were fixed on her. A Guide! Training took over, as her skewed thoughts screamed for her to protect the Guide. Maybe she could protect him, buy his safety. "Just leave Blair alone. Let him go. I'll do whatever you want, just let him go. He's innocent, I didn't tell him anything, I promise."  
  
"Shh." The voice was gentle in her ear as it interrupted her. Her head was tucked under the man's chin in an oddly comforting embrace. The warmth he passed on to her was heavenly. His quiet murmurs in her ears slowly sank into her fevered thoughts. Suddenly, the knowledge of who he was cleared her brain. Ellison could not hurt her, not without reason. "Remember who I am, know I won't hurt you. I won't let anything happen to Blair either. It's just the fever talking. . ."  
  
The other figure joined the embrace, lending them his warmth. The two men slid her arms over their shoulders and escorted her to the waiting blue truck. AJ let go. She was too tired to fight the deep voiced man. Too tired to argue anymore. She wanted to find a way to set Blair free. He was too nice, too bright to end up like the others. The memories of past sacrifices, ones neither she nor massive government mobilization had been able to stop, flashed through her mind. She was supposed to be doing something, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. For now, though ,she couldn't think straight, much less crooked. She leaned her head against one of the chests beside her and let that man pick her up. She felt herself dimming as the adrenaline rush faded and relaxed into his arms.  
  
"Sandburg, if you mention the 'H' word again, I promise I'll gag you." The voice rumbled in the chest under her ear. She felt herself placed on a seat and strapped into place.  
  
"Sorry, man. I didn't think she'd hear me or freak out like that." The mellow voice, Blair's voice, spoke again. The breathy words stirred her hair as he wrapped himself around her.  
  
"Yeah, I figured that out on my own." Doors closed and the engine started. There was a pause before the voice continued thoughtfully. "Chief, before she passed out again, she tried to buy your safety. She thought you were in danger."  
  
"What? What is that supposed mean?" The body around hers clung tightly, the hug strengthening.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
  
  
  
  
Jim pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. He closed his eyes in relief, fighting off the pain that throbbed through his temples. He'd thought the trip out to the museum had been hard. He hadn't counted on the snowstorm worsening or one of his passengers panicking and running out into it. Cascade snowstorms were rare, and one this early in the fall was unheard of, so the city was caught unprepared. That meant the roads were dangerous, even for someone with enhanced senses. They had been lucky to make it back to the loft in one piece.  
  
He glanced over at his passengers. Blair had curled himself around Fortaleza, holding her securely against his chest and pinning her hands in his own. He blearily opened his eyes and looked around. A half-hearted smile crossed his face as he realized that they were at the loft. He began unwrapping his limbs from the still figure.  
  
Fortaleza barely stirred as the young man slipped out from behind her. Jim reached and lightly shook her. Her eyes opened and looked at him groggily before closing again. With a sigh, he pulled her across the seat and into his arms. As she snuggled into his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her fever had disappeared again and he didn't like it. Even with the truck's heater on high, she seemed to be suffering the first stages of hypothermia. Between her wet clothes and trying to fight off the malarial attack, she didn't have much of a chance fighting off the drop in body temperature. If he thought he could make it to the hospital in this storm, he would take her there. Promise or no promise.  
  
Night, Incacha. her whisper was soft. The Quechua words were spoken in a childlike voice. He frowned, wondering where her mind had wandered this time. The young woman was hiding a lot of things and he didn't like the conclusions that were coming to mind. For all that she seemed shy, from experience he knew that there was steel in Fortaleza. Whatever it was she saw in her delirium, it was bad enough to terrify her. Something that could terrify her into pleading for Blair's life bothered Jim. Especially since the thoughts that came to his mind were ominous when he considered the unassuming files he had gotten on her. The whole thing smelled of a cover-up, a nasty one.  
  
Hidalga, it's Enqueri. He whispered to the wet bundle in his arms.  
  
Hello, Enqueri. The eyes opened and looked at him, barely focusing. It's cold, like at home.  
  
Where's home? He asked her as he followed Blair up the stairs. The other man looked up curiously at the their whispered voices.  
  
Home is death. She closed her eyes and drifted off again. He listened to her heart rate drop and steady in sleep. Her breathing calmed as she slowly slid back into unconsciousness.  
  
"Jim? What's wrong?" Blair's urgent voice cut through his thoughts.  
  
He looked up at his partner and shrugged. He wasn't really sure how to explain it to him. How could he tell Blair that he wanted him to stay clear of this woman. She attracted trouble almost as fast as his friend did and he was afraid that the consequences of the two of them together would be catastrophic. And, as was par for the course, Blair considered her a friend. All of his instincts were screaming that she was hiding something. And whatever it was, was bad. He frowned down at the woman lying so innocently in his arms and strode into the loft.  
  
  
  
  
  
Jim adjusted the water, testing it carefully. Satisfied that it was safe for treating Fortaleza's mild hypothermia, he stood and headed for the living room. As soon as Blair returned with clothes, for her they could begin the process of bringing her temperature back up to normal.  
  
"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Blair's voice came from another room. "I mean, the way she's drifting in and out, she could drown."  
  
"She needs to be warmed and fast, Chief. I'll hold her upright in the water until her temperature is closer to normal" Jim glanced over at the younger man as he headed for the living room. He half wished he knew more about the woman.  
  
Incacha had told him a little about the tattooed Walks Through tribe and even less about the Hidalga. The Chopec shaman had warned him that Hidalga was one of the sagrado, the ones who literally ran the old roads through the mountains, always fighting the bad spirits that tried to destroy the old ways. Any tribe allied to the Walks Through People could call for their aid and one of their sagrado would come. If it was more than a sagrado could handle, others from the Walks Through would join them.  
  
According to legend, the Walks Through had held off a regiment of the Conquistadores long enough for their tribesmen to scatter into the mountains, guaranteeing their people's survival with the loss of every man over the age of adulthood. To keep their people from dying off, the refugees adopted the fleeing survivors of other tribes, forged alliances with already established tribes in the area, and became known for their ability to come and go with very little trace.  
  
When Chopec children were found on the steps of an old temple, Incacha sent out runners begging for another shaman to help him stop the evil that hid in the old walls. Instead of a shaman, the Walks Through people came. Before that they had never traded with the Chopec, they came because one of their sagrado wanted to answer Incacha's call for help. It cost them dearly to wipe out the drug manufacturers that were using the temple as a place to store their refined product. The Walks Through people only asked that the Chopec watch out for thier Hildalga, who was prone to leaping into fires without sending for help first. Incacha and the rest of the Chopec swore to watch out for the sagrado.  
  
When Jim joined the tribe, Incacha made him promise to memorize the pattern of the Hidalga's tattoos, saying the Chopec owed that one more than they could ever repay. But he hadn't said anything about the Hidalga being so young. He understood that to the Chopec and other tribes of Peru adulthood came early, but it still threw him to think about it.  
  
Jim shook himself, clearing his head as he noted she had moved. The blankets were still draped on the sofa, but Fortaleza was gone. He hadn't even heard her move. He looked up to see that she was curled up next to the wood stove, not quite close enough to touch it.  
  
"What are you doing up?" He asked as he crouched next to her. She turned her head, eyes still closed as she listened to him. "I thought you were out for a while."  
  
"Hello. Where am I?" Fortaleza asked, eyes opening and watching him. According to Incacha, Hidalga was as dangerous as she was honored by the tribe. All of the sagrado were considered dangerous, like edged weapons that must be handled carefully. Sagrado were known by their tattoos, the more they had on their arms, the more tribes they knew. The more tribes, the less likely they were to live to an old age. Fortaleza's tattoos formed bands as wide as his hands, promising as many enemies as allies. He hated getting caught between his old life and his current one, especially when it involved his time in Peru but he could feel the winds of change coming.  
  
"Cascade." He gently used one hand to tilt her head, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Do you know who I am?"  
  
"Detective James Ellison, Enqueri, Sentinel." She replied, shivering and trying to get closer to the fire. Jim nodded, accepting her words and her relaxation as what they truly were, a cessation of the silent battle for control between them. Maybe she wouldn't tell him everything, but once she accepted that he was a Sentinel and she was in his territory, Fortaleza was honor bound to accept his assistance, protection, and to a minor degree orders. It would make his life a lot easier.  
  
"Come on, let's get you into the bath." He gripped her arms lightly and pulled her to her feet. He kept encouraging her softly. "That's a girl. You can do it."  
  
She leaned on him, concentrating on moving her feet. The Sentinel wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting and guiding her to the bathroom. Once there, he sat her down and began stripping her of the borrowed coat and shirts. She stared dully at him, shivering even more as the cool air hit her skin. As he pulled her up onto her feet, her skin formed goose bumps in reaction to the chilly room. He noted her shivers and sped his movements. Fortaleza tried to help but her numb fingers only got in the way so Jim deftly pinned them in one hand. Within moments, he'd removed her wet shoes, socks and pants, leaving only her underwear and lifted her into the warm water.  
  
Her knees promptly folded and she sank down into the tub. Fortaleza groaned as the warmth wrapped itself around her cold body. She closed her eyes with a blissful smile and began to slide under the water. Jim had to move quickly to catch her, barely keeping her from submerging completely.  
  
"No, you don't." At the sound of his voice, Fortaleza's eyes sprang open. The pale green irises flickered with recognition before becoming unfocused again. Behind him, Jim could hear Blair's entrance. The woman's eyes focused behind him, blinking in confusion.  
  
"Well, at least her eyes are open and trying to focus now." Blair's voice came from over his shoulder. "She still looks kind of out of it. Need a hand?"  
  
In answer, Jim gently shifted her so the younger man could reach her. The moment Blair's fingers touched her skin, Fortaleza jumped as if scorched. Between the suddenness of the move and the fact that her skin was slick from the water, she managed to slip out of Jim's hold. Her panicked move slammed her into the tile wall.  
  
"Shit!" Jim forced himself to freeze as Fortaleza's eyes darted from one man to the other. After a moment they closed and she sagged against the wall. Only Jim's quick move kept her going under the cooling water.  
  
"AJ!"  
  
At Blair's worried tone, confusion crossed Fortaleza's face. She forced her eyes open again and they met the Sentinel's. She looked completely lost, and something about the plea in her eyes made Jim shudder. One of her hands caught at his hands. She whispered, "No."  
  
"Easy, AJ." Blair's voice only made her struggle again.  
  
"Hidalga!" Jim kept his voice low, but the command was still there. The young woman ceased her struggles. "We have to get your temperature back up to normal. This is the only way..."  
  
"Jim, it might be cultural," the anthropologist interrupted. With a deft finger he reached out and tapped her arm, hitting a dark colored tattoo. "I think I recognize this one. It's from a coming of age ceremony. That tribe has a lot of taboos regarding women and chastity issues. She may have accepted you, but I think I'm the problem."  
  
"Great! Just great! She can't shower on her own right now and that's the best way to both get her warm and clean. " The Sentinel growled at them both. He stared down at the figure trying to curl away from his scrutiny. Suddenly the tattoo beside his thumb came into focus. He smiled, and from her worried glance, that startled her. "Hidalga, you bear the mark of Incacha. That makes you one of my tribe. We are related. Blair is my Guide, my tribe. "  
  
He watched her, eyes narrowed, wishing he could read the thoughts flickering across her face. She looked down at her shoulder, staring at the tattoo his thumb was rubbing. The small symbol easily disappeared under his thumb. Finally she nodded, releasing the hard grip on his wrist.  
  
You are my elder brother, Sentinel. You are of my tribe. Your Guide is as my family. The Quechua words were intoned solemnly, a vow that struck Jim hard. By tradition they were family, they were of the same tribe. That meant it went both ways.  
  
You are family, little sister of the winds. Mine and my Guide's. Jim quietly intoned the response. Although the ritual had not been performed, the oath was one that both would honor. Blair's quiet exhalation brought Jim's full attention to the present. "Good. Now I want you to be still while we take care of you."  
  
Fortaleza nodded wearily, closing her eyes. In near silent communication the two men went to work. Blair pulled the plug, letting the water escape while Jim pulled AJ up against his chest. One hand holding her in place, he used the other to untie her thick braid. Blair began adjusting the water, trying to find the perfect temperature.  
  
"Chief? Can you hold her for a moment?" Jim whispered.  
  
Blair moved over and quickly took the shivering form. AJ, eyes still closed, leaned against him, soaking his shirt. "How are we going to ...?" Blair trailed off as he realized that his friend was stripping off his sweater and shirt. "Um, Jim. Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, think about it, man."  
  
Jim kicked off his shoes and undid his belt. He grinned wickedly at his friend and after removing his belt and shoes stepped into the tub.  
  
"Keep your mind out of the gutter, Sandburg," he commented before pulling Fortaleza back into his arms. As he shut the shower curtain, he tossed more words towards the wide eyed observer. "You'd better grab some more towels, we're going to need them."  
  
"Yes, sir. How come he gets the girl in the shower while I get to go get the towels." Blair's voice came clearly through the sound of the water flowing from the showerhead. "I might as well change into something dry while I'm at it."  
  
Jim fought another grin as he focused his attention on getting Fortaleza under the flow of luke warm water. Holding her against his chest with one hand, he used the other to rub her skin, trying restore circulation. The faint scars that covered her stood out to his sensitive fingers. He pulled her arm out, focusing on it, eyes widening in comprehension.  
  
At first the parrallel lines that ran from wrist to elbow made him frown. There were too many for them to be suicide attempts. The bluish tinge along each scar worried him until he realized it was not from the chill the woman had taken. Unlike the tattoos, which were easily visible marks telling who Fortaleza was, who she knew, and who knew her, the scars marked her kinship to specific people; specific shamans, specific Sentinels and Guides.  
  
Each mark claimed her as adopted by another group, linking her to them far more closely than any blood tie. If she ever needed a place to run, a place to hide, she could go to any of those tribes and disappear so well that no one would ever find her again. If she needed help, she could call and each of those tribes would send warriors to fight at her side. If they called, she would join their battles. No wonder Incacha said she was as dangerous as she was honored. Fortaleza linked more tribes than my unit ever worked with, Jim mused as he turned up the temperature of the water. The blue line that marked his own arm as he grabbed a washcloth.  
  
As he ran the wet cloth over Fortaleza's face, he let his eyes stray over the band of tattoos on her upper arms. Each was small, barely an inch square. On their own they were plain, no more than two muted colors. The oldest one was closest to her shoulder, A blackened square where plain black outlines that had been shaded over each other. Only his Sentinel senses allowed him to distinguish between the different inks used there. When he focused on them carefully he was able to see each outline separately; eagle, anchor, caddeus, and flag.  
  
Jim realized that most of the others, softly hued tattoos that spoke of natural inks rather than synthetics, all seemed to fit her. Several were the tribal marks of people he knew, Incacha and the Chopec among them. Others marked tribes he had heard about or even fought against while with the Chopec. On both arms, the small tattoos were linked together by a yellow coiling border that ran between them. He noted that there were only two completely empty spaces left within the writhing yellow pattern on one arm. The other arm had none. For some reason that Jim didn't understand, the sight of those spaces raised his hackles.  
  
He turned the water up again, adjusting it carefully as he felt AJ's core temperature go up another degree. He grabbed Blair's shampoo, deciding that since she was already wet he may as well make sure she was clean too. For all of Blair's protests that there was no spark between them, he didn't think that it was a job he needed to leave to the younger man.  
  
Several minutes later, Blair stuck his head through the curtain. "I thought the idea was to get her warmed up, not so you could ... well, use it as a cover for um..."  
  
"Have you ever taken care of someone with recurring malaria, Chief?" Jim met his friend's eyes. At the quick negative gesture, he continued, "Until she gets enough quinine into her system to shut down the parasites, she's going to keep spiking fevers. Each one will wear her out more, stress her system more, and drop her immune system farther. After this it gets worse. That's only if she doesn't have one of the resistant strains. This is her last chance at getting clean until she's well."  
  
Blair nodded and reached for a towel as Jim turned off the shower. The Sentinel grabbed it and wiped his face. "I think she'll be okay. Let me get changed into something dry and then we can get her out of here."  
  
"I can do it, Jim." Blair argued.  
  
"She's out cold, Chief. I'd rather both of us were working together just in case she gets delirius again." Jim's sober words made the other man frown. "If she does, it would take both of us to handle her without someone getting hurt."  
  
Moving slowly, the Sentinel lowered the woman and helped by his Guide settled her against the tub. Once Jim was out of the bathtub and the drain was closed, it didn't take long for the water level to rise enough to cover AJ and keep her warm.  
  
"Keep her in the water until I get back. It's warm enough to keep her warm, the room isn't."  
  
Blair glared at his partner. "Yes, Dad. I know how to handle hypothermia."  
  
Jim ignored the jibe as he took another quick scan of Fortaleza's temperature. Then with a glance at his Guide, he shifted her so that her head lay against Blair's forearm.  
  
  
  
She opened her eyes a few moments after she felt the hands holding her change. She knew she had been drifting in and out but somehow it didn't seem to matter.  
  
"Hi, Sunshine." Blair looked down at her. At some point he'd changed clothes, looking much more comfortable in the too large sweater and torn blue jeans he was now wearing. "Feeling any better?"  
  
"Yes, I'm actually warm." She smiled at his chuckle. "Can I get out now?"  
  
"Give Jim a minute to change and then we'll get you out, okay?"  
  
She coughed lightly and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. Blair released his hold on her shoulder, moving to push the long strands of hair out of her face. He tilted her chin up and grinned when she flicked water at him. "I'm fine."  
  
"No, you're not. Look, it's not worth the effort of fighting either Jim or me." The gentle face was solemn and stubborn looking. "You won't win this one either. Maybe, when you're all healed, I'll start letting you win arguments again."  
  
"Problems, Chief?" Ellison's voice was deceptively soft as it echoed through the small room.  
  
"No, just explaining the newest house rule." The grin Blair tossed over his shoulder made the bigger man stand at attention. "I get to rule over my sick or injured companions without any arguments at all."  
  
"Sounds good to me." Jim grinned at the thought of Blair's ideas on recuperation and recovery tactics. He had to admit, he did heal faster under the young man's ministrations. "Let's get her up and dressed."  
  
AJ found herself hauled out of the bathtub and stripped out of her wet underclothes. Ellison kept one hand lightly wrapped around her shoulders to support her as the other efficiently dried her with a towel. Sandburg was busy, his hands briskly enshrouding her hair in another towel. Then he gasped and one of his hands went to her back, gently tracing a long, twisted scar.  
  
"AJ?" His voice trembled as the hand traced another scar. The emotions in his voice, shock, pity, pain, and rage made his throat close to any other words.  
  
She shuddered, trying to escape Blair's hand, pulling away from both men. Jim reacted instantly, understanding her reaction. He quickly wrapped the towel he'd been using around her and pushed her gently to sit on the tub. Picking up the oven warmed blue sweats, he placed them in her lap, keeping his body between Fortaleza and his partner.  
  
"Blair, out." The sentinel's voice was calm, but there was no argument from the stunned man. He turned his attention back to the still figure and crouched down beside her. "Go ahead and get dressed. I'll take care of Blair. Fortaleza? Do you think you can do this on your own?"  
  
She forced her head up and looked into his eyes. The big man felt for her, but he was not going to ask questions she could not answer. She nodded slowly to him. Accepting her silent assurance, he stood and walked out of the small room.  
  
As soon as he stepped from the bathroom, he saw Blair pacing the hallway. The smaller man gripped his own waist tightly. The anger in his voice was all self directed. "I really blew that didn't I?"  
  
"Take it easy, Chief." Jim looked at his partner, seeing the guilt and exhaustion. "It's not your fault, we're all tired. That was not an easy sight to see. From the way she startled, I think she forgot about the scars until you brought them up. She got them a long time ago. When or if she ever wants to talk about them, we'll be here waiting."  
  
"Yeah, but you didn't freak out when you saw them."  
  
"I knew they were there as soon as I saw her tattoos, Chief. They matched the ones on the figure in the picture." He saw again the photograph from her file, the one that was misidentified as probably being of a young Cage. Part of him was glad that the tribesmen had killed the men who done that kind of damage to anyone. Another part of him, the part that Blair teasingly called his blessed protector wasn't as satisfied. "I was prepared, you weren't."  
  
"The photos? But I thought... That means Cage took the picture but AJ was the one on the ground." Blair's voice broke off ,as it began to make sense. "No wonder she hates uniforms. Those soldiers nearly killed her, didn't they?"  
  
"She survived, Chief." Jim let his hands rub at Blair's tense shoulders as they stood quietly, both relaxing in the comfort of the other's touch. As he heard AJ fumble with the door, he released Blair and stepped forward. He wanted to be able to help her if necessary.  
  
It was a long moment before the young woman opened the door. Jim watched patiently as she slowly and very carefully let go of the doorframe and joined them. She was holding herself very still, waiting for their reaction.  
  
"I think those sweats look better on her than on you, Chief." Jim's voice made her smile just a little.  
  
"You know, I think I agree with you." From the corner of his eye, Jim noticed that Blair watched her, worry creasing his face, waiting for her acceptance. Her smile reassured him so he continued his light teasing. "A bit on the skinny side, but she definitely looks better in them than I do. Must be the way she fills them out."  
  
AJ grumbled to herself, her words just a little too muffled for the Sentinel to understand, as they gently herded her out to the living room. When Jim tried to settle her on the couch, she shook her head and pointed to the fireplace. Jim looked over at Blair before shrugging and helping her settle on the rug next to it. The younger man tossed a pillow to them and grabbed the afghan from the back of the sofa.  
  
"Where did you put her medicines?" Jim asked quietly, as he handed the pillow to Fortaleza.  
  
"I'll get them." Blair disappeared into the kitchen, still holding the afghan. He returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a tray. Setting it down on the table, he quickly set aside two mugs of coffee and opened the pill bottle. As Jim spread the afghan over her, Blair held out a handful of pills and a mug of tea.  
  
"What's this?" Fortaleza asked quietly, taking both from him. Before Blair could answer her, she tossed the pills in her mouth and gulped enough tea to swallow them. She winced as the hot liquid went down her throat. Without pausing she took the glass of water that Jim handed her and downed it.  
  
"Quinine, extra strength Tylenol ,and the tea is good for healing." He spoke softly, eyes widening as he realized what she'd done. "How did you know you could just take them like that? You didn't even wait to find out what they were."  
  
"Ellison is Sentinel to the Chopec. You are his Guide. I am adopted into the Chopec. That makes us from the same tribe. It's more than a family tie. It makes both of you safe, trustworthy. I can and do trust both of you." As she spoke, Fortaleza began to curl up, cuddling herself into a ball under the afghan. She blinked at them sleepily, watching them as they thought over her words. "Since I trained under Incacha and Enqueri is our Sentinel, that makes you my brother or cousin or was it brother-in-law? Something like that. I can't keep the words straight."  
  
Both men choked on their coffee at her confused whisper. Two pair of shocked eyes turned to her. Before either could comment, she closed her eyes and whispered, "I have a package for you... remind me to get it for you."  
  
  
  
"How long will she keep this up?" Blair helped his partner lift the sleeping woman from the rug to the couch. They had made it up as a bed while she slept, trying to speak quietly enough that she wouldn't awaken.  
  
"That really depends, Chief. If you mean the drifting off, her fever and her concussion are the primary causes for that. Once the quinine takes effect, the fever will disappear, so she should be back to what you're used to within about four or five hours. Of course, we have to wake her up to check. Since she's on straight quinine instead of Proloquine, she'll have the fever off and on for 48 hours, until the attack dies off." Jim tried to lower Fortaleza onto the couch but discovered that she had a fierce grip on his shirt. He grunted and after a moment growled as she shifted her hands, grabbing skin as well as cloth. "Ouch! Come on, let go you little she-cat!"  
  
It was all Blair could do to keep from laughing aloud as the sentinel's frantic fingers wrapped around the woman's and began levering them loose. He leaned down to help but found himself chuckling too hard to be of any help and Jim pushed his fingers firmly out of the way. The glare he received made him chuckle even more as he watched Jim finally yield to her determined grip and sit down next to her. After a moment, she loosened her fingers. The big man moved fast, slipping her hands away from his chest. His move wasn't quite fast enough, as soon as the hands realized they were empty, they moved. One hand grabbed onto the sentinel's wrist, the other slid around his waist. AJ's entire body began scooting and snuggling into his partner. At the expression on the big man's face, Blair lost all control over the laughter he'd been struggling to contain.  
  
"Jim, I think she likes you." Blair wiped at the tears that were beginning to run down his face. He sat gingerly on the edge of the couch and ran a hand over her wet hair. He looked up to meet the fierce glare and laughed again. He really couldn't blame her one bit. Jim was warm and a person to curl up against when it was cold. Of course, Blair would never admit that... especially not to Jim.  
  
"She's worse than that monkey of yours." The soft words were tinged with laughter too. A gentle smile crossed the sentinel's lips as he shifted her into a more comfortable position. "Why is it that all of your friends are different from anyone else?"  
  
"Reflections of my nature?" the younger man asked. He pulled a wooden comb from AJ's bag and began untangling the wet tresses. "Seriously, man, if you don't want her, I'll take her so you can escape."  
  
"Actually, I'm almost enjoying this part, Chief." There was an odd look on his face as he watched his guide's movements. The dexterous fingers of one hand were running through tangles, leaving smooth wet silky strands behind. After a moment, one of her hands moved and began gently kneading the sentinel's thigh in time to Blair's hand. Between the two movements, Jim was slowly relaxing, mesmerized as he watched. "Of course, getting away from her before she's completely asleep will be impossible."  
  
Blair looked up in surprise. "She's not asleep?"  
  
"It's a very light sleep, probably closer to a doze." Jim kept his voice low. AJ burrowed herself closer. When he laid his hand on her shoulder, she stilled and her breathing paused momentarily. He tilted his head and listened intently, his hand slipping under her hair to rest on her back. He let it rest there, measuring her lungs' activity. "I wonder if she trusts us enough to go all the way to sleep."  
  
"She trusts you enough to let us bring her here, man." Blair's words were soft as he began making a long braid of her hair. "She's always politely refused my invitations before."  
  
Jim watched his partner thoughtfully before nodding. In a strange way it made sense. Fortaleza had been too wary to really trust Blair outside of the university setting in which she had come to know him. She knew she could trust him there and so she did. As for Jim, once she recognized him, she had resisted his orders but had trusted him immediately. Even when the fever made her delirious she listened to him. He had the feeling that their lives were about to become complicated. He sighed, watching Blair's quiet movements as they waited for Fortaleza to completely relax. 


	7. Blizzards: Company for Dinner

The Storm by Ronnee   
Chapter 6 Company for Dinner (Blizzards) 

852 Prospect, Apartment 307, 13 October, 7 p.m. 

A sound in the hall caught Jim's attention. Instantly, he tensed, focusing his senses on the sound. Under his hand, Fortaleza stirred, her subconscious catching his tension. "Chief, you need to get the door. Simon's here." 

"In this weather? Oh, man, it's got to be bad news." Blair looked over at him curiously as he slowly stood and went to the door. He opened it before the police captain could knock. "Hi, Simon. What's up?" 

"Your phone's out Sandburg, and this storm is playing havoc with cell phone reception." The big black man looked exhausted as he slumped against the door. "Dr. Gillespie called in a prescription for your runaway friend. Since you told them there was no way you could get her back to the hospital, I decided to bring it over and check on you at the same time." 

Blair nodded at the comment. The snow had never quite let up. The slow, constant fall changed just after noon to a heavy fall that threatened to bury the city. If Jim thought driving during the early morning hours had been a disaster, the 5 O'clock news made them both glad he'd taken the day off. They spent the day quietly watching movies and relaxing, while AJ slept on the couch. 

The only worry Jim or Blair had was the cough AJ had picked up. After a call to Dr. Gillespie, Jim decided it was far safer to stay in the loft and let Blair tend her with his herbal remedies. It looked like the good doctor disagreed and arranged his own delivery service. That thought brought a smile to Blair's lips... Simon as a delivery boy. 

"Come on in. You look frozen." The observer pulled the bigger man farther inside the loft and stripped off his coat. The bitter cold that radiated from the coat alone was enough to make him shudder. As he shooed Simon towards the couch, he also took the pharmacy bag. "I'll get you some coffee while you go sit near the fire and warm up." 

"Yeah, I could use the warmth right now. The storm is turning itself into a blizzard." He wearily walked over to see why his friend was sitting so quietly on the couch. 

Jim felt the slight stirring of the woman resting against him. He noticed how each word that Simon uttered and each step he took into the loft brought her closer to being awake. He ran his hand gently down her back, trying to soothe her and keep her from waking. Her heart began to speed up. The tenseness that suddenly crept into her muscles brought him to full alert. He looked down and realized that although she looked like she was still asleep, she was prepared to throw herself into flight. Slowly he tightened his grip on one shoulder, feeling the flesh through the cloth and noting the slight swelling from the bruises she'd received during the botched robbery attempt. She froze and then relaxed slightly. 

"Ellison." The captain greeted him briefly, looking over the tableau with interest. He saw the curiosity and amusement in the brown eyes and sighed as he heard Banks' words. "So, I take it you found Blair's missing anthropologist." 

"Yes, sir, we did." He kept his voice calm, waiting for the next line, knowing there would be one. AJ stirred against him, as if just awakening. Her hands released their death grip on him and her body moved as if snuggling closer to him, but in reality shifting her balance. If he needed to move, she could shift away easily, allowing him to move swiftly. He loosened his hand on her shoulder and began rubbing her back again, crooning lightly under his breath. He knew she could at least feel the sound as it echoed in his chest. She shifted minutely, her eyes opening to slits so she could watch Simon approach. 

"I thought she was Sandburg's, not yours." Simon's voice was tinged with the same amusement that danced in his eyes. He smiled widely as the young woman sat up. Blair joined them, handing Simon a cup of coffee. 

Jim extended his senses as AJ sat up, blinking lazily. She remained leaning against him, still trying to absorb his warmth. He barely caught the look she flashed Blair, but it was enough to make him stiffen. He glanced over at his partner and saw the dawning mischief there. He knew they were up to trouble. Neither spoke as Blair handed her the antibiotic pill and a glass of water, but he caught the wink Blair gave her. 

"Does that mean I have to choose between you?" Fortaleza spoke up after handing back the empty glass. The voice sounded so innocent, half asleep and softly inviting. The way she snuggled into his side, rubbing her cheek against his ribs and draping her leg over his was pure evil. If he didn't know better, he might even have been tempted. However, by tribal law, since they had both been adopted by Incacha, she was off limits and they both knew it. That didn't mean, however, that Jim couldn't join the fun and bait Simon. 

"Well, that depends on what you prefer, Kitten." Jim stretched, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her even closer. The smile he gave Blair was wicked, the one he turned on AJ even worse. He relaxed, enjoying the moment. The expression on Simon's face was enough to brighten his day as he continued his teasing. "On one hand, you have the youth, energy, and spontaneity of Blair. On the other hand, you have my experience, stamina and sensitivity. Which one would you rather have?" 

"I don't want to choose. Can't we just share?" She asked plaintively. 

"Wait a minute, man." Blair piped up, his eyes glinting at them. Jim knew that the next words were going to make the woman in his arms regret the challenge she'd thrown. He started to chuckle before his partner could finish his sentence. "She ought to have chance to sample the uniqueness of Simon. She may prefer him to either of us." 

Jim turned his head in time to catch the shocked expression on the big man's face. Their eyes met and he had to grin. He obviously hadn't expected the repartee or the rapid-fire double entendres. Simon's eyes widened in merriment, as he offered his hand to the woman. At least the Captain had good sense of humor. 

AJ yawned, still draped close to the Sentinel's warmth. "Well, he is handsome and very much, as the lingo around here goes, the 'bomb'. I'm AJ Fortaleza, glad to really meet you this time. I apologize if it is, again, under bad circumstances." 

"Simon Banks." He kept his voice soft as he took in the fact she needed Jim's help to sit up. Her face paled at the movement but she forced herself to sit leaning against the man's side. Simon wrapped his hand around hers, being very careful of his strength as he shook it. Even when she'd been pale and close to panic during the aftermath of the grocery store holdup, Fortaleza hadn't looked quite this bad. "I take it you actually get along with these two jokers." 

"In a way. It was a toss-up between friendship and enmity. Friendship won." The woman grinned up at him and Simon smiled in response. She coughed softly, frowning. Simon noticed that Jim's face clouded as Fortaleza tried to clear her throat. Suddenly, she burst out coughing, curling around her own arms in pain as she did so. 

Jim heard the breath catch in Fortaleza's lungs, heard the spasms in her chest as the bronchia began locking up. The instant she curled up, his hands caught her, keeping her from falling off the couch. Where he had been half reclining beside her, helping her and Blair tease Simon, he now leaned over her, one arm clamped around her shaking shoulders, supporting her. Blair had moved just as fast, joining them on the couch. One of the younger man's hand slowly and firmly rubbed her back, the other curled around her arms. It was several long minutes before her coughing fit ended, allowing the struggling woman to breathe easily. She looked up at them, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to hold it in. 

"Easy, kid. Just take it easy." Jim found himself speaking softly as he responded to the naked pain in her eyes. He listened to her lungs as the spasms ended and her breathing became easier. He let his hand slide down to rest over her bandage, checking the wound silently. "Breathe in and out gently." 

"It hurts, Enqueri!" She growled at him, fighting off another cough. 

"I know it does. If you breathe shallowly, it's easier on you." He caught Blair's eyes as his partner 

stood, signaling he was getting something and nodded. He listened to her lungs briefly, noticing that the spasm had finally stopped. She had been in the snow too long, but hopefully not long enough to really get sick. "It doesn't sound like an infection, but it definitely sounds irritated." 

Sandburg appeared at their side, a cup of fresh tea in his hand. With a smooth, flexible move, he squatted and brought the tea to her lips. The sentinel supported her, while the guide fed her the tea. For a moment, AJ was far away, in another place and time. It was too familiar a memory -- only the participants were different. Inwardly she fought the imagery, she did not want to be under someone's care again. It was too dangerous for them and her. People who helped her ended up hurt, it was something she had learned the hard way too many times in the past. Unfortunately, she had little control of the situation. She turned away from the mug, eyes closed as she fought off the thoughts. 

"Feeling better?" Blair asked as he pulled the cup away. 

"Do I want to know what's in that?" Fortaleza whispered. 

He smiled and shook his head. "Don't you recognize it?" 

"Wintergreen for fever, chamomile to calm me, mint to ease my throat's spasms, honey to sweeten it and something I don't recognize, probably for the cough." She recited quietly. "Yes, it's good for me and I know most of it." 

"That's bergamot." 

"Well, I'd better get going." Simon stood, keeping an eye on the trio. He had watched them silently, noticing the unspoken movements. There was something about the way they related that seemed odd, almost in sync. He had a feeling it had something to do with Sentinels and Peru and he really didn't want to know. As he turned away, the lights went out. 

"Blair, hold onto AJ for me." Jim calmly shifted the woman so that his partner supported her. He quickly stood and walked over to the balcony doors, looking into the night. "Simon, I think this storm now qualifies as a blizzard. You'd better stay here." 

"How bad is it, Jim?" Simon stood behind him, watching the snow fall. 

"I can hear people for blocks complaining about the electricity being out. I don't think it'll be on for a long time." His words were quiet, resigned. So much for some quiet downtime, not that he expected much of that in the first place. "Why don't you keep an eye on Fortaleza while Blair and I get the candles and sleeping bags. We'll have to sleep in here, near the wood stove." 

Simon nodded and turned back to the couch, relieving Blair of holding the young woman. 

AJ felt the rising tide of fever returning as Blair handed her over to the tall captain. She looked up into his dark brown eyes and let herself see into them. For a long moment she only saw the police captain, large and intimidating and then her reality shifted. The great bear held her as if she were made of glass, worry in its eyes. At its side, peering over the furred arm that held her, was the black panther that had been flitting through her dreams and vision. A voice whispered to her, Punuy. A smile crossed her lips as she obediently leaned into the massive form holding her, closed her eyes, and went to sleep. 

To Simon's amazement, the young woman did not protest the exchange. Instead she focused her eyes on his, staring deeply into them. Then, a small, almost content, smile on her face, she leaned into his shoulder, one hand lightly grasping his sweater as she closed her eyes and promptly went to sleep. 

It only took the two partners a few minutes to collect bedding and candles. Jim moved the coffee table and then spread out the sleeping bags and blankets close together in front of the fireplace. Blair bounced into the area, his arms filled with candles of all sizes and shapes, dumping them onto the small couch. When he looked over at Simon, his eyes widened. 

"How did you do that?" Awe was in his voice as he whispered. 

Jim turned from making the beds and grinned. "She must trust him instinctively, Sandburg." 

"I take it she doesn't do this often?" Simon kept his voice low, not wanting to wake the sleeping woman curled in his arms. As he spoke, she sighed and snuggled closer to him. He rubbed her back gently, murmuring under his breath for her to rest. 

"No, sir." There was a chuckle in the detective's voice. "I've had her fall asleep on me, but only because we knew the same people in Peru. It took all morning for her to be able to relax like that with Blair. But once she does, you're stuck." 

Simon slipped his arms around Fortaleza and shifted her against him. He kept his moves gentle as he moved her to one of the sleeping bags. He set her down and tried to stand, only to find that she had wound her fingers into his sweater and locked them there. As he tried to loosen them, the other hand joined the first. "I take it she won't let go?" 

"Well, not willingly." The chuckling observer answered. "It's some kind of reflex, I think. But look at it this way, she must trust you in some level to latch onto you like that." 

"Just what I need." The big captain grumbled. 

Ellison smoothed the sleeping bag beside the captain. Once he had it situated to his liking, he moved close to his old friend and the sleeping woman. With an arm wrapped around her, pulling her gently away from Banks, he began whispering in Quechua. Let go of the nice captain, Hidalga. I know he is a nice pillow, but it's time for you to get some more sleep. 

Jim slid his fingers along AJ's waiting for her to release her grip on Simon's sweater. The moment he felt them begin to loosen, he slid them free of the material. A low grumble issued from her throat, just loud enough to make his old friend slide back and glance down at her. He smiled. "She won't bite, sir. That's just her way of complaining at your loss." 

"Right." Simon didn't sound very convinced as he backed away. 

The big man walked to the balcony doors to watch the snow as Jim placed her in the sleeping bag. She lay still as he zipped it up around her and then disappeared, curling into a ball that left nothing visible except the green material. The Sentinel watched and listened for a moment before turning away, satisfied that AJ would be warm enough to stay put. 

"Is she going to be all right?" Blair's voice was soft, as he watched the motionless figure. 

"Yeah, she'll be fine. She just needs to rest and to heal." He walked over to where the other two men were standing at the glass doors. 

"Look at it come down. It's pretty bad." Simon stared out into the softly falling whiteness. "It's been years since we've had this much snow this early in the year." 

"It seems to have done a lot of snowing this year." Blair replied. Then he grinned, "in fact, we had the first snow the day she got here." 

"With the hidalga comes the storms." Jim murmured, staring at the falling snow. "And as the end of time nears, the storms will grow worse. On the final day, the day of the final sacrifice, either the storms stay forever or spring returns." 

"What?" Simon and Blair turned to stare at the sentinel. 

"It's something I heard Incacha reciting once. I forgot all about until now." Jim looked at them and shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything." 

"Are you sure?" Blair looked over at his friend. "You don't normally recite things like that unless they mean something." 

"These aren't the end times, Chief." Jim smiled. "I thought all of you scientific hippie types figured on the world ending on New Year's Eve next year." 

"What? Oh, come on, Jim. Everyone knows the new millennium does not start until 2001." Blair grinned back. "We already had this discussion." 

Jim snorted before turning to meet Simon's amused eyes. "See what I have to put up with sir?" 

"Sorry, Jim. He's your guide. That makes him your problem." The big man chuckled as Blair splutter indignantly. "You missed a fun case today." 

"What happened?" Instantly the detective went still, turning his entire attention to the captain. 

Simon smiled, one of his rare, full fledged, cat-ate-the-canary smiles. "It seems Mrs. Donnelley, wife of Mr. Agustus Donnelley III, city councilman, upstanding civil leader, and avid hater of the Cascade police department, found several mysterious, large purchases charged to her husband's accounts in town last month. Like a good little wife, she called the stores and found out what the purchases were... just in case. Of course, since her birthday was this month, she didn't say anything. Her birthday was last Friday. When she didn't get the full length mink coat, or the diamond necklace, or the silk dressing gown she called us. She was certain one of the employees was using her husband's gold card for the purchases." 

Jim groaned, he knew what was coming. "Don't tell me. I can already guess." 

"Yep." Simon's smile grew larger. "When Rafe and Brown tracked down the address to which these items were delivered they found a very nice, pretty, young woman. It seems Agustus 

Donnelley III had bought those presents for his mistress when she presented him with his third son." 

Blair choked and began to laugh. "Wait a minute, Simon. Are you saying... Cascade's Donnelley I-am-the-only-honest-candidate-for-mayor has a mistress?" 

"Not only that, Chief," Jim replied, his own smile nearly matching Simon's, "but Donnelley is doesn't have any children by his wife. He always uses that as a sympathy point in his campaign." 

Blair shook his head. The Cascade PD had their share of supporters and enemies among the councilmen. It didn't surprise him that the reason for one of the most vocal opponents of the PD, was so vocal because he wasn't entirely legitimate. An idea occurred to him, "Simon? Does that mean he's been supporting two families on the 'pitiful' wages of a public servant?" 

Simon nodded, eyes a bit less friendly. "It gets better. Donnelley brought his mistress over from the Philippines. He got her through someone in town who specializes in bringing in beautiful, young things, who don't speak a word of English. So she never knew he was already married and that her marriage was false. The real Mrs. Donnelley is taking her under her wing and suing the pants off the entire Donnelley family for the privilege. The councilman started ratting on the man who brought the girl into the country. Vice found a couple of very well appointed bordellos filled with lovely young girls. " 

"What's going to happen to the girls?" Blair asked quietly. "Will they be deported?" 

Simon shook his head. "The human rights groups would have a field day. Mrs. Donnelley already contacted INS and asked for special Visas for them. If she has her way they'll get full citizenship and pretty fast too." 

Blair nodded, satisfied. "So, since we don't have anything else to do, do you want to play cards? It's way to early to go to sleep, and without electricity there isn't much else we can do. We can play cards by candlelight." 

The two other men nodded and they all moved to the table. 

Several hours later. 

"I can't believe they haven't gotten the power turned back on." Jim commented quietly as he checked the snow. He watched Simon loosen his tie, and offered, "I'll find you something to change into, Simon." 

"There's no need, Jim. I've learned to keep a packed bag in my trunk since running into the two of you." The tired man grinned before turning away from them and slowly making his way to the door. 

"Hey, Simon? Want me to go get it for you?" Blair asked, bouncing slightly on his toes. 

"Does he ever run out of energy, Jim?" 

"It's not easy, but I can keep him busy enough to wear him out, if I really try." The sentinel replied, a smile playing about his lips. "Usually I just let his schedule do it for me. This semester, Fortaleza has been protecting him like a mama bear and he's been the Energizer Bunny. I'm thinking of placing calls to the ladies in his little black book to use up all the extra energy." 

"Can you wear him out in the time it takes me to walk down to my car and back?" The big man asked jokingly. 

"No, sir. It usually takes hours of concentrated attention to wear out Sandburg. That means a long chase, followed by several nights on stakeout while working on other project during the day, a new girlfriend he's trying to impress or finals week." Only the sentinel could see the faint blush that crossed his guide's face at the quiet statement. The captain just shook his head and went out the door, laughing quietly. After the captain left, he rubbed his forehead. Forcing himself to ignore the constant scent of cigars that went everywhere with the big man had given him a headache. 

"Come here, Jim. I know you've got a headache. " Blair's voice was soft. "We're only going to have a few minutes, so let's not waste them." 

Jim quietly obeyed his guide. He sat, closing his eyes and breathing in the quiet. Blair's voice anchored him, instructing him to release the tensions. Slowly, he felt the dials readjust and the tension fade away. Vaguely he heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. He stood, opening his eyes. 

"Simon's back?" The tone of speculation in the young man's voice made the sentinel glance over at him. He had to bite back a shudder at the expression on his guide's face. He could almost see the wheels turning 

"Just about." With visible reluctance, he stepped away from his friend and turned to the balcony doors. With his head pounding the way it was, his guide's presence was akin to taking two double strength Tylenol. He leaned his forearms against the cold glass and sighed. "Go on and change, 

Chief. I'll get Simon settled." 

"Jim?" Blair's voice was still soft.. "If you need help with your senses, Simon'll understand.." 

"Blair..." The detective groaned as the door behind them opened. He glared at the younger man as he grinned in commiseration and disappeared into his room. He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, trying to regain control of his raging headache. 

"You okay, Jim?" Simon's voice came across the room clearly thanks to his hearing. The captain had paused at the door, watching him. 

"I'm fine, it's just been a long couple of days." He straightened and walked back to check the fire. 

Silently he joined Simon in rearranging the bedding. Within minutes, they had turned the floor into a close packed sleeping area. They had silently arranged the bedding so that Fortaleza was sandwiched between two of the men. 

"So who gets to have the escape route?" Simon joked. As he spoke, Fortaleza stirred, her head popping out of the sleeping bag. Her eyes barely opened as she looked around the room. Then she shuddered, teeth chattering and dove back into the bag. The two men glanced at each other and grinned. 

"Flip you for it." Blair's voice came from behind Simon. The younger man had changed into sweats and had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders for extra warmth. Then his eyes lit up and he crouched next to the motionless sleeping bag. He slid a hand over it and smiled. "Never mind. She's an electric blanket. I'm staying right here." 

Simon looked at Jim, who looked at him and they smiled. "She's all yours, Sandburg. Just remember that if she latches onto you in the night." 

"Not a problem, man. Compared to either of you, I'm not hot-blooded enough to interest her. She'll gravitate to whoever's on the other side and keep my back warm." A large yawn interrupted his thoughts and he shrugged. Then an idea popped into his head. "When does she need her next dose of medication?" 

Jim looked over at the medicine bottle on the counter. "Eight hours for the antibiotic. The painkiller is as she needs it. The quinine is tomorrow evening." 

"Quinine?" Simon's eyes had widened at the word. "She has malaria?' 

"Just a flare-up. It's nothing to worry about." Blair slid into his sleeping bag with a happy sigh. 

"Man, I love this thing." 

"I can believe that, but now you can't complain about the cold when we're camping." Jim grinned. He had given Blair the thermal sleeping bag a gift right after they had returned from capturing Alex Barnes. They hadn't had much of chance to try it out yet. In fact this was the first time he had seen it put to use. 

"It's the hiking and climbing and getting wet that get to me, man." Blair answered sleepily. "With this, I'm perfectly happy." 

The room was silent for a moment as Jim banked the fire. Simon quickly changed and slipped into the sleeping bag next to the sleeping woman. Within moments of the move, she wriggled until she was curled up against his side. He shifted her slightly until he was comfortable. 

"Hey, Jim? I was wondering..." Blair's voice broke the silence. 

"Go to sleep, Sandburg." the two older men spoke in unison. 

852 Prospect Ave., 14 October, 3 a.m. 

Blair looked over at the others. Just as he'd predicted, AJ had gravitated to Simon's side. He could see the lump that she made, curled half on the police captain and had to smile. The smile turned into a silent chuckle as he wondered how the big man would react when he woke up. He curled closer to Jim, trying to go back to sleep. 

"Chief?" Jim's voice was soft in his ear, making him jump. 

"Hmm?" Blair rolled to face his sentinel. 

"Go back to sleep." 

14 October, Still real early in the morning. 

Simon couldn't move. He tried again to stir, but found himself pinned in place. Instantly his eyes sprang open as he tried to figure out where he was and why he couldn't move. He could barely see through the dark pre-dawn light. He focused on a braid that trailed across his chest. He followed it to find Fortaleza's head nestled against his chest, her ear pressed over his heart, sound asleep. Her boneless sprawl effectively pinned him down. There was no way he could move without dumping her onto the floor. A low chuckle made him turn his head. 

"Looks like she caught you again, Simon." The big detective tried to shift and froze. 

"Sandburg has you pretty well caught, too." He grinned in amusement as his best detective tried to move without throwing his partner on the floor. 

"These sleeping bags are dangerous." The other man growled low in his throat. He tried to move again and froze. A slim hand shot out of the sleeping bag and latched onto the flannel shirt the detective had fallen asleep in. It dug in, catching flesh as well as cloth when he shifted warily. 

"Let go, Chief." 

"Its too early." the murmur was barely audible. A tousled head appeared, glared up at the dim, cold room and disappeared. "Too cold to get up, man." 

Simon began laughing, a deep rumbling sound that shook the slight figure resting against his chest. Suddenly, the sleeping bag moved violently. Fever bright eyes stared at him in shock and blinked. "Good morning, sleepy." 

"Earthquake." The word slurred between her lips. A small hand patted his chest amiably. She gently smoothed his sleeping bag back into place and laid her head back down, pulling into the sleeping bag like a turtle. As Simon began laughing again, a low growl came from inside the sleeping back and a fist appeared. It batted him lightly in the ribs and sleepy voice growled at him. "G'sleep, quake." 

"There's no point in getting up yet, Simon. Between the two of them and the storm nothing's moving." Jim spoke quietly, one hand resting on his guide's back. He stretched slowly and then settled himself more comfortably. "We might as well go back to sleep." 

As the big men settled themselves back down silence slowly fill the loft. It was a silence that the sentinel rarely heard. The rare October blizzard had shut the city down, no electrical appliances were running, no cars were on the streets. The only sounds were the four heartbeats, the soft breathing of the sleepers and the soft "shh" of falling snow. If he stretched his senses, he could hear other people in the building, but all of them were sleeping through the early morning silence. It didn't take long before the two men were as sound asleep as their companions. 

*** 

It was midmorning when they finally got up, all three men having been exhausted by the late night. With heavy snow still falling and the lack of electricity, Jim encouraged Simon to remain at the loft. Using Jim's police radio, they had checked in with the station and been advised that the city was quiet thanks to the storm. After eating breakfast, Blair left the two policemen discussing past cases, stating he had work to do on his Sentinel notebooks. Simon shot them a surprised look but decided not to mention the fact that if Fortaleza had been awake she would have heard the comment. 

"She's asleep, Simon." Jim spoke quietly, surmising correctly what was bothering Simon. 

"Mind reading now?" 

"No need to... I know you well enough to guess at some of your expressions." Jim smiled. He leaned against the glass door and watched the snow fall. 

Simon chuckled at the thought of Ellison knowing him that well. He'd have to admit that the man had mellowed in the past years. He mentally tossed a prayer upwards. If anything happened to Sandburg, they'd lose the Ellison they had now and everyone in the precinct knew it. Half of the beat cops kept an ear out for Ellison's call sign just to make sure the two men always had back-up. No one wanted the old Ellison back. He saluted the younger man with his beer. "Well, I guess that's to be expected." 

A soft whir and the rustle of cloth came from the living room. The two men turned in unison as AJ stood and walked towards the loft door. Jim moved quickly, placing himself between her and her objective. He spoke softly. "Hey, Kid. Where you going?" 

"Time to move, sir. Been in place too long." AJ stood at attention, her eyes fixed at the center of his chest. They darted up and locked with his. Instantly, her face wrinkled in confusion. "Captain Ellison?" 

Jim stiffened. It had been a long time since anyone had referred to the rank he'd held in the military. He could feel the heat of her fever even across the intervening distance. Bright flags of color brightened her cheeks and a fever induced glitter adorned her eyes, making him revise his estimate up again. Before he could speak she did. 

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't intend to be late. I'm your guide, Silence Two, sir." AJ looked away as if hearing something else, something from the memory she was reliving. "Confirmation is Alpha one niner two kilo. How many made the jump in?" 

He felt himself pale as the words slammed into his brain. He had never gotten a chance to meet his contact on his last mission in Peru. The helicopter crash had seen to that. He knew from something he'd overheard during his debriefing that his contact had searched for them for several weeks before being ordered off the case. He dredged through his memory to find the code to make her stand down. "Tango lima, Silence. Warank'a. But it's not a problem." 

At his words the stiff shoulders relaxed. Obviously he'd remembered correctly. She turned and looked at Simon. "Is he yours?" 

"He's Capt. Banks." 

Her eyes narrowed. "He's not on the list." 

"Last minute substitution." Even sick AJ's mind was fast. Jim ushered her back to the sleeping area. "We have a long journey ahead of us, so you'd better get some rest now." 

AJ watched him warily before dragging a sleeping bag off a little way from the others. Seeing her medicine bag on the table she grabbed it. Using the bag as a pillow, she cautiously lay down, watching the two big men. 

"She's up!" Blair's voice caught all of them by surprise. 

"He's not a soldier..." 

"No, he's not." Jim interrupted her words, inwardly cursing his inattention. He should have been expecting Blair to come back into the room. Luckily, he knew exactly how to handle this. "Your job is to guide us to the village, not to ask questions about my team." 

AJ's silvery green eyes met his as she pondered his words. A slow smile crept across her face and she nodded slowly. Her accent was much stronger than normal as she replied. "Of course, Capitan." 

Moments later slow, even breathing announced that she'd drifted back into sleep. Simon walked over to her and looked down at the young woman. "I didn't know you knew her, Jim." 

Jim went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. Then he returned to the balcony doors, relaxing again. He sipped at the beer, still thinking about Fortaleza's words. A muscle tensed in his jaw as he went over what had happened in Peru all those years ago and what had just occurred in his living room. "My team was supposed to rendezvous with a specialist. All I knew was that the 

Silence group had requested the privilege of providing my team's guide. It was an honor to any team in the area to work with them. They were a legend to the entire base. We never got there and I never met the guide. I found out later that the entire Silence contingent drove the Army crazy trying to find us. Seems we were so far off course that they accused people of setting up the entire mission for failure. It took a lot of convincing for Silence One to begin working as a guide again. Two just walked away from the area. When I resigned, the rumor had it that Two still was refusing to accept any work from the Army." 

"Wait a minute." Blair's eyes were wide as he looked from one man to the other. "You're saying that AJ worked for the military. Doing what? She's an anthropologist, not a . . . spy. Besides, I thought you said she didn't work for the government." 

"She didn't. Silence only did one thing, introduce insertion teams to their native allies. The rest was up to us." Jim frowned. "I had figured that Cage was Silence. It wasn't until my team was lost that anyone acknowledged that Silence was a group of guides, not a single person." 

"Sandburg, her behavior and reactions prove Jim's right." Simon responded quietly. "It also explains the lack of information in her files." 

"**_YOU_** checked out AJ?" The incredulous looks both men gave Simon matched Blair's words. 

"Yes, I did. As many times as both of you have gotten into trouble because of a woman, I thought it was the best thing I could do." Simon couldn't quite meet either man's eyes. He didn't want to even consider the meaning of the fact that he was investigating his men's choice in friends. It spoke of being too close to them. 

****** 

14 October, 11:15 p.m. 

"Jim, wake up!" 

Simon's urgent whisper brought him fully awake. He sat up. The whisper had also awoken Blair, who grumpily complained at the disturbance. The sentinel looked over at the older man, seeing the captain crouched by the balcony doors. Beyond him, curled between the plant and his speaker was Fortaleza. Even from where he lay. Jim could see the sweat beading her forehead. She was watching the police captain, her eyes full of fear. When Blair moved, she cocked her head, listening to his movements, her eyes staying fixed on Simon. Jim frowned thoughtfully. 

"Hildalga, it's all right. No one here will hurt you." He whispered from where he crouched, too far for her to have heard. Her eyes flicked over to meet his. "Take it easy, Kid." 

Blair sat up, his eyes wide as his mind in took Jim's murmurs. Suddenly some of the missing pieces began to fit together. Movement drew his eyes. He looked over to see Simon begin to move. Silver flashed, a blade in the woman's hand twisting in warning. 

"No!" Jim moved fast, putting himself between them. His words stayed low, barely audible. 

"Shh, put it down. You are safe here, AJ." 

She turned to face him, the knife lowering but still held defensively. The fever had dulled her eyes, clouding them. She shivered, her free hand curling around her ribs. For the first time since her arrival, AJ's words were in unaccented American English. "No. Cold here. Snow here. I don't want to die." 

"I promise, no one will hurt you. It's safe." Jim's voice was still gentle as he took in the words and realized that she was delirious again. 

"I promised not to come back." Tears cascaded down her cheeks. "We made a bargain, they leave us alone, we stay away. If I go home, I die, everyone dies." 

Behind him, Jim heard Blair's quiet curse. AJ flinched and paled. He slowly moved forward, stretching his senses, trying to anticipate her next move. 

"Who made the bargain for you'? The police? The FBI? Talk to me, Hidalga." Jim spoke softly, watching her as she rocked slowly back and forth. 

"The police man was bad man. Even other police mad at him, called him monster man... hit man.'' The child-like simplicity of her voice made Jim wince even as the words made all three men flinch. "FBI men died and men in suit made promises. Now bad men leave me alone." 

"Hidalga, listen to me." 

"I don't know you. You are a stranger, one of the hunters." Her voice was icy, filled with fear. She pulled the knife up, holding it close to her body. Her move was sudden and unexpected. The knife tipped up and slashed down, heading for her side. 

Both police officers went into action. Jim dove high, grabbing the hand holding the knife, refusing to allow her to plunge the knife into herself. He twisted her wrist brutally, forcing her to release the knife. Simon kicked it away, grabbing her legs before she could attack the sentinel who was trying to hold onto the shuddering woman. 

AJ was having nothing to do with either of them. She fought them, hard and dirty, no holds barred. They were hampered by the fact that neither one wanted to hurt her. Only the fact that she was both ill and injured kept her from breaking free from them. It took them several long, hard fought minutes to get her under control. 

Finally, Simon pinned her to the floor, his weight firmly laying across her back as he held one of her arms between them. He glared up at his subordinate, wincing to himself as he noted the bruises on Jim's face. Fortaleza didn't make a sound, once he'd pinned her, she'd frozen. The one eye that he could see was closed, silent tears leaking from it. 

"You okay, Jim?" His words were spoken in a gasp as he tried to catch his breath. The **y**oung woman had gotten him with a good blow to his ribs and it hurt. 

"Yeah, let me catch my breath." The younger man slowly stood, rubbing his stomach. "Remind me not to get in any more fights with her." 

"Getting too old to handle it, Ellison ?" The captain mocked him, keeping his eyes on the woman laying quietly on the floor. 

"No, just a little too scarred to handle someone as panicked as that without hurting them." He murmured softly, one hand gently touching her forehead. The skin under his hand was burning hot. He listened, hearing the congestion now in both lungs and the labored breathing. Even as he listened, he heard the erratic thumping of her heart, skipping and racing from fear and fever. "We need to get the fever down, Simon. It's too high." 

Simon slowly and carefully pushed himself off of Fortaleza. The two men turned her over, expecting a violent response. The one they got was worse than her previous delirium. Her body began convulsing, the fever having reached too high for her body to accept. 

"Sandburg, see if the phones are working yet!" Jim shouted as he tried to hold onto her. 

"Nothing, Jim." Blair's voice was scared as he hung up the phone. "Maybe..." 

"It's too dangerous to try to get her hospital in this storm." Simon's words stopped the observer's unspoken thought. 

"Then we need to lower her temperature and fast. Get her into the bathtub. I'll get snow." The two older men looked at each other before responding to the younger man's order. As they moved her, Blair gathered several pots full of snow. 

15 October, early evening. 

It was dim and very quiet when AJ finally woke up. She was stiff and ached all over. She began to sit up and hissed as her body protested the movement. Every muscle in her body locked and painfully reminded her why she hated being ill. She shuddered convulsively as she fell back onto the nest of blankets and sleeping bags she had awoken in. She let her eyes close in frustration, she could barely move between the stiffness and the pain of the stressed muscles. 

"Hey, Sunshine." Warm hands gripped her shoulders and began massaging gently. "Stiff?" 

"Kaneshka, ochen." She let the thought slide past her lips. 

"I'll take that as a yes." The voice was amused at her incoherence. 

After a moment, she heard a second voice speak to the first one. The words instantly relieved the part of her that rarely trusted any situation. If the sentinel was still there, she was safe and so was Sandburg. "Hey, Chief, Hidalga. She looks more asleep than awake." 

"Almost, Jim. Want to join in? She's locked tighter than a drum." 

Every sense she had, every bit of training and the bits of memory she had from the fever dreams told her that she was safe. It was rare. So very rare that she decided to just enjoy it. She knew from experience it wouldn't last long, not long enough to by far. She was rolled onto her stomach and the hands kept up the massage. Someone straddled her back and joined in on the massage. AJ sighed happily, relaxing as the muscles unknotted. An amused murmur barely roused her as she heard someone sit near her. 

"Is she putty yet?" The first voice, the one she recognized as Blair's, was chuckling. 

"Not quite, but pretty close." Ellison's voice was closest to her ear as he gently loosened the muscles on her upper back near the stitches. 

"Well, at least the fever's gone and she's awake." Simon spoke up from somewhere behind her. 

"This is not awake." Blair protested. "This is barely conscious." 

"No, this is bliss." AJ turned her head and opened her eyes. She smiled lazily at them. "I like having all this attention. I take it last night was very bad?" 

"That was the night before last, kitten." At Ellison's nod, the other man sat back. The sentinel turned her over and helped her sit up. "If ambulances had been running you would have been on one." 

"Not funny, Enqueri." AJ glared at him and tested her muscles. She tried to judge the fever from the last remaining aches. "What did I hit? 103?" 

"106 and convulsions." A grim look crossed his face. 

"No wonder I ache. Thank you." She looked at all of them, one face at a time. All three showed signs of the strain, red eyes and tired faces. She blushed, normally she took care of the people around her. She owed them more than before. AJ sighed, tired from just that action. She didn't have time for being sick or being tired, the internal clock in her mind was still racing forward. "I rarely get sick or have more than a mild relapse. I'm sorry that I caused a problem." 

A strong finger tilted her head up. Warm eyes met hers as the sentinel looked down at her, over his shoulder both the guide and their friend watched. "Friends are not a problem. Troublesome maybe, but real friends are never a bother or a problem. Understand?" 

"Yes, Enqueri. Friends." When he smiled at her, AJ felt it all the way to her toes. She glanced over at his guide and read the amused understanding in his face. They were definitely a special pair and well worth the sacrifice of protection. An idea hit her. She knew the perfect way to make them safe. She had even started the process. Now to make it official. They had said the words, it was time to finish the rite. In fact, it was dangerously close to being too late to perform the rite. She held her hand up, palm outstretched. "Kin? Breda?" 

"Breda. Kin." Jim accepted her offer, placing his hand palm to palm with hers. His eyes met the tired green ones and read the worry there. He nodded, slowly and firmly. He remembered Incacha's explanation about the vows and rituals that bound the tribes together. During the past 48 hours, Fortaleza had been too ill to worry about breaking the ritual. Now was another thing entirely. 

He wrapped his hand around hers, tightening almost to the point of causing pain and then releasing it. Standing abruptly, Jim went up to the loft bedroom. As he did so, Fortaleza began looking around anxiously. Blair saw the movement and headed for the far corner of the room. A moment later he held up her medicine bag in inquiry, and at her nod he brought it over to the coffee table. She moved over to it and began unlacing the bag. Jim rejoined them, kneeling beside her with a military issue K-bar knife in his hand. 

"Jim?" The police captain's voice was worried. Both of them ignored his unspoken question. 

AJ pulled out a piece of heavily tied finely cured leather. She swiftly but carefully untied the multitude of knots. Its inner surface was marred with stains, old rust colored stains and blue traced patterns. She smoothed it on the coffee table and laid several pouches of herbs on it. At her signal, Jim unsheathed the knife and handed it to her. She dribbled the herbs on the edge, chanting quietly. 

"Enqueri?" At her quiet inquiry, he held out his hand. With a swift move, she lightly scored the skin from his palm to his inner elbow. Jim let several drops fall onto the leather. AJ moved swiftly, pouring a fine blue-white powder on the wound, stemming the blood. 

"Hidalga?" He asked quietly 

"Soy sagrada, mas que soy hidalga," she answered, holding out her arm. Jim shot her a stunned look before scoring her arm. She dripped blood onto the leather before sprinkling her wound with a different powder. She reached for an herb pouch. 

"Jim?" Blair's voice was gentle as he held up his own arm. He was moving more to instinct than to thought. The idea of getting his arm cut like that was enough to make him pale, but he felt it was necessary. Even as he moved he could hear a low growl of approval echoing in his mind. It was the correct move and he knew it. 

Jim looked at his partner, reading the determination there and nodded. He looked over at Fortaleza. She handed him the knife with a wry smile. Blair held his hand out, keeping his face calm as first one and then the other lightly drew the knife down his arm. Then he did the same to them. All three dribbled more blood on the leather before Fortaleza calmly dusted the wounds with both powder and herbs. They gripped their hands together as she chanted again. 

AJ watched the two men as she pulled yet another pouch from her bag. Jim's eyes met hers and glanced over to his guide. She understood his worry, but could not deviate from the ritual. It was obvious the younger man was moving out of instinct rather than knowledge. Neither of them would argue with the instincts of a shaman, so they accepted his actions as ordained. The blue eyes met hers and then glanced down to watch as she slowly dusted his wound with a more of the blue-white powder. She did the same first with Blair's wound and then her own. The fine dusting of powder turned red as it soaked up the blood that still oozed sluggishly from their wounds. 

As AJ pulled out a small brown clay jar and uncapped it, Jim whispered urgently to Blair. "No matter what, don't move!" 

The startled guide looked up and met the young woman's eyes. The words that softly fell from her lips were completely unfamiliar to him, but at the same time they made perfect sense. He stared into her eyes, barely moving even to breathe. She let a single drop of a thick viscous liquid land on each wound on his arm. Blue fire flamed the length of the wound, searing it closed. Only the fact that Jim had warned him kept Blair from jerking away from the other two. 

Jim held out his hand, patiently waiting for his own dose of the liquid. Silently, it was dribbled onto his wounds, causing his skin also to flame with the pale blue fire. Then AJ handed the vial to the sentinel, motioning for him to complete the cycle. When her wound flamed as theirs had, she gently blew on the three pale flames as her hand reached for theirs. With a soft whoosh, the flames flared up and join together over the closely held hands. Then they disappeared. 

Blair stared in amazement at his arm. The wound was gone, only a fine silvery-blue scar was left. He looked over at AJ's arm and his eyes widened even more. Her lower arm was covered in a tracery of the thin scars. She smiled at him before allowing herself to sink back into the sleeping bag. 

"Jim?" Simon's voice caught their attention and the three turned to face him. "Do I really want to know what that was all about?" 

"Probably not, Simon.." Jim replied with a grin. Absently, he pulled a blanket up around the young woman as she closed her eyes. "It's a bonding ceremony." 

The captain sat forward, face stern. He looked at his detective, worry creasing his forehead. "Are you sure you want that?" 

Ellison stood and stretched before turning to his friend. "Simon, it has to do with trust. Fortaleza already has mine. She's a member of the Chopec, she worked with Incacha. Hell, she's linked to twenty tribes by adoption alone." 

"So, why did you feel you had to link to her, make her part of the family?" Simon had to get them to understand what they had just gotten themselves into. "Do you know what you've opened yourself for? Damn it, man, what were you thinking?" 

"He was thinking that this gives him the right to boss me around. It always seems that the men around me want me to behave in certain ways. They also figure that by pulling on the ties that bind us they can control me." AJ whispered. With a low groan, she stretched, forgetting about the stitches momentarily. Her hiss of pain turned the sentinel and guide's attention back onto her, while her words made Simon freeze. "Anyway, it's natural for the Sentinel and Guide to link to local allied or aligned Shaman. It helps strengthen the tribe." 

Simon stared in shock as the two men ignored what she'd said. To his knowledge, neither Jim nor Blair had told anyone else about the sentinel thing. How had Fortaleza gotten the information? He caught Jim's eye and relaxed as he saw the calm acceptance there. He turned his attention back to the anthropologist chiding Fortaleza. 

"You're supposed to be careful when you move." Blair chided her. 

"Go away!" she growled lightly at him as he began tucking her back under the blanket. "I want to get up. No, I *need* to get up." 

"Oh. Sorry about that." He offered her a hand up. When she stood, he lightly held onto her waist, helping her catch her balance. "Okay now?" 

"Yes, thanks." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. 

"Hidalga?" Jim leaned over her shoulder. "Can you walk alone? You've haven't much strength left. Especially after this." 

AJ's chuckle interrupted him. "I think I can do this on my own, Enqueri. Anyway, I know you will be listening, so if I have trouble..." 

"Hidalga..." 

"I know. It's part of the package." AJ pulled away from the two men and walked slowly toward the bathroom. 

"Take it easy, Jim." Blair teased his partner. "You know she's stronger than she looks." 

"She's still too sick to be up." He growled back, glaring toward the back of the loft. 

"I heard that!" Her voice was softly mocking. "In the immortal words of Wayne, 'chill dude'." 

"Blair! Did you lend her your copy of 'Wayne's World'?" 

"Of course, man. She really needed to get accustomed to American culture and it's already a 

classic. The theory is that it immortalizes ..." 

"Sandburg!" 

Hours later, Simon stared morosely out the window. The snow had finally ceased, but the drifts were still too high for his car. He couldn't believe the weather of the past few months. Freak snow storms and cold fronts like the city had never seen before. At least the electricity was finally on again. A quiet noise made him look around. 

Fortaleza stood next to him, silently watching him, her eyes distant. "You are worried about them?" 

The quiet words hit Simon hard. He could understand Jim figuring out his thoughts. But Fortaleza was an unknown, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to be able to figure out his thoughts. "I..." 

Before he could answer she continued. "I have vowed to die before ever causing harm to a Guide or his Sentinel. That includes Blair and Jim. I am not who you need to worry about. It's the people out there that are the threat to them." She met his eyes. "If you would like, I can make a vow to you... one to protect them." 

Simon stared at her, thinking frantically. Even though Fortaleza was barely able to stand she was trying to reassure him. "I'll take your word." 

With a tired nod, she turned away and slowly walked to the sofa. As he watched, she curled up on it and picked up one of Blair's anthropology journals. When he looked up, Jim was watching him from the kitchen, a slight crease between his eyebrows. Simon shrugged, turning back to the snow covered streets. He had the feeling that life was about to get even stranger than normal. 


	8. Red Sun at Morning

22 October 

Detective Rafe stalked across the university campus. He was tired and really wanted to go home rather than go back to the station. This investigation was about to drive him nuts. Why'd he have to get stuck with it? Everyone knew that Ellison and Sandburg had more connections at the university, so usually they got all the campus cases. Sandburg even spoke the same language as the professors, which made their work easier. But with the anthropologist working long hours on his special museum project, Jim begged off this case and Simon assigned it to Rafe. To be fair, Rafe knew about the close call of Blair's boss during the freak blizzard last week. He understood why the younger man was spending all of his time at the University. If the professor were anything like Sandburg, it would be a full time job just keeping her from overdoing it while she recovered. 

He sidestepped the slower moving students as he stalked down the sidewalk. A bitterly chill wind made him stuff his hands deeper into his coat pockets. He thought seriously about calling Brown and telling him that he would be back in the morning. He looked up when he heard someone shouting. 

"Look out!" 

"Catch her!" 

A group of jocks had been rough housing on the wide front verandah of the student union building. Their game of snow tag had gotten out of hand, resulting in disaster. A young woman ignoring their rambunctious game in her concentration on walking across the icy patio had inadvertently stepped into the game. There she had been run into by one of the larger men. Her balance lost, she was careening toward the slick steps. One of the young men grabbed at her coat, his fingers missing by less than an inch. She slid over the edge of the first step. 

Rafe broke into a run, hoping that she could at least keep her feet under herself. If she did, he might have a chance of catching her. Otherwise, between the cold stone steps and the ice-covered railing, she didn't have a chance of getting out of this unhurt. So far, so good. The woman was still on her feet. If he could get there in time, he could catch her, keeping her from ending up flat on the pavement. 

To his own amazement, he caught the girl as she flew down the last few steps. Her soft gasp as she landed against his chest sent warm air across his neck. Shuddering from the sensation, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as he staggered backwards, coming to a stop against a heavy concrete planter. Once he had regained his balance, he looked down and lost himself in her eyes. 

Her eyes were a pale green, reminding him of new leaves, edged with a trace of silver. Wide with fear and shock, their pupils acted like black holes, pulling at his soul. The pale skin of her cheeks slowly regained their golden hue as she began to recover. As his gaze continued, a faint blush began to tint her face. The hands that clasped his chest so tightly slowly released him as the eyes stayed firmly in contact with his own hazel gaze. 

Whistles and cheers broke into their mutual stare. The blush on her cheeks deepened and she stepped back. Rafe forced himself to let her step away, but he could not force himself to let go of her waist. He smiled down at her, the smile gaining strength as she returned it. 

"Are you all right?" He whispered, wondering why he was whispering. 

She looked up at him and smiled again. Her voice was soft, caressing his ears with its accent. "Yes. Thank you for catching me." 

"Anytime. I live to have beautiful women fall into my arms," he teased gently. Her eyes flickered to his in confusion and looked away. "My name's Brian Rafe. What's yours?" 

She looked at him again, her tongue lightly moistening her lips. "I really should be going..." 

"I promise you, I'm harmless." Rafe could feel the smile on his face get even brighter. She was shy. He would have to move very slowly with her, but he could feel that this pursuit would be well worth the costs. He pulled out a card from his coat pocket. "Look, I can give you references. Just call anyone at this number and they'll vouch for me." 

She didn't even look at his hand. She was watching his face and his eyes, measuring him and his words. He put the card back in his pocket and placed the hand back on her waist. 

"My name is Kyrie." Even as she spoke, she didn't know why she gave him her real name. Technically, it wasn't her real name, not any more, but it still fit her so much better. No one except family had called her that for a very long time. She slowly smiled at the incredulous look on his face. The delight in his eyes as he tried out her name warmed a corner of her soul she had ignored for too long. 

"Kyr-i-eh?" He spoke slowly, trying to get the accents right. She nodded, shivering as the wind picked up again. 

"Can I walk you somewhere?" With an effort, he let go of her waist. He moved his hands laterally to her elbows and then down to her hands. Some part of him insisted that he had to be in contact with her. As their hands met, so did their eyes and he felt a shock as skin touched skin. Curiosity filled her eyes and for a second, the look of confused innocence that crossed her face made him pause. Then she smiled again and the light in her eyes danced happily. "Or maybe buy you a cup of coffee?" 

"Tea?" 

"Yeah, that's okay too." He smiled and released one of her hands, pulling the other one up into the crook of his elbow. It seemed so natural that neither of them questioned the gesture as they slowly walked up the steps she'd flown down just minutes before.  


Rafe escorted Kyrie into the campus grill. She leaned on him slightly, the first evidence of a limp in her gait. He noticed that several students looked at him twice. The glances weren't quite friendly once they noticed that his companion was limping. One pair of jocks even came over to them, the looks on their faces making him stiffen. Wondering what was about to happen, Rafe shifted their path slightly so they were closer to him, approaching obliquely. He didn't want her to be in their line of attack. 

"Are you okay --" Before the young man could say another word, Kyrie grinned. 

"Tony, Jacob, this is Mr. Rafe. He saved me from a nasty spill." Her grin was infectious as she looked over at the students. She turned back to Rafe, eyes sparkling merrily. "Rafe, these are two of my photography students. They also are part of the informal, keep the teacher out of trouble league." 

"But..." 

"How on earth?" The boys looked flustered at her comment. 

"Everywhere I go on campus, it seems these two have already warned everyone to be nice to me." The sparkling laughter in her voice brought a smile to Rafe's lips. "They thought I wouldn't notice or overhear them." 

"Umm. Well, we were kind of asked to keep an eye on you." Jacob actually blushed as he spoke. "We didn't think it would be --" 

"We'll be going now." Tony interrupted, elbowing his friend in the side. "Sorry about the interruption, Teach." 

Taking in their discomfort, Rafe fought another grin. He nodded to the two young men, watching them as they headed outside. Turning back to Kyrie, he lea her to a seat. 

"I think you might want to see a doctor about that limp." He spoke softly as he helped her sit down. He grabbed another chair and lifted her leg onto it. 

"I'm fine, Rafe. I only ..." She paused, frowning as she tried to think of a word. "twisted... it. " 

"It could be more than that." Rafe tried to convince her. But Kyrie only shook her head, smiling at him. 

"No. I've done this before. If I take it easy for a day or two, it will heal." She smiled up at him, enjoying the way he was trying to comfort her. For the first time she understood the comments she had heard all of her life. Tia Elena was right. When the right man appeared, life changed in one single heartbeat. Life just flipped inside out and upside down as she watched Rafe. _Oh, god! Why now? Why here? _part of her wailed. The rest, trained early to be calm and rational, added this occurrence to the equation. She could do this; she could accept the little pieces of joy that were handed to her. All she had to do was keep her life even more compartmentalized than normal, make sure nothing overlapped. It was bad enough for there to be so many potential targets without her bringing more people into the equation. She had made sure Jim and Blair were safe, now she had to find a way to safeguard Brian Rafe too. Her thoughts whirled restlessly as she watched him go to the counter for the tea. 

Blair looked up worriedly at AJ's entrance. He still couldn't believe Jim had given her a key to the loft. Of course, he had demanded a key to her apartment in exchange. The young woman moved slowly as she hung her coat beside the door. When she turned to face him she smiled brilliantly. For the first time since he'd met her, the photographer was truly happy. Her face lit up with her excited joy and the pale eyes had their original impact again. The odd twist in his gut as she met his gaze was far better than the evasive glances he'd gotten used to lately. He made a note to himself to find out everything he could about whatever had made her smile like that. 

"AJ?" He asked quietly. "What's up? I got worried when you weren't home this afternoon." 

"Everything is fine." She grinned, as she walked across the loft to the balcony doors. "I had an accident and fell down the steps at the center. Then this..." 

"Are you all right? Were you hurt?" Blair interrupted her, coming to his feet and heading for her side. Pulling on a sweater, Jim came down from the upper level of the loft, worry evident on his face. 

"I'm fine. Calm down, both of you. A young man helped me and then we got to talking over tea." She turned to face them and took two steps before Jim grabbed her and swung her up into his arms. 

"Put me down, Enqueri." 

"You're limping." 

"I'm just sore. I didn't notice while I was with him." She mused, her eyes distant. 

"Sore? He hurt you?" Blair's voice rose. 

"What? The steps did that silly." Her pale eyes went from one frowning face to the other. Both men looked very upset with her words. "What? What did I do now?" 

Jim silently set her down on the couch and lifted her leg, placing it on the coffee table. Her eyebrows rose at this blatant violation of the house rules. His glare was enough to smother her comment. Blair's equally tense expression made her frown. 

The sentinel gently ran his hands over her foot and ankle. He moved up to her knee and nodded to himself as she winced and tried to pull away. He studied it, feeling the joint carefully through her jeans before announcing quietly. "It's not broken. There's a little swelling so it's probably not even a mild strain. You need to stay off it for a day or so." 

Blair frowned watching her nonchalance. He knew she was still unused to living in the States. This could be a perfectly innocent case of two people meeting, but... then again. The joy in her eyes made him happy and scared at the same time. What if she'd met an abuser or a psycho or a stalker or a serial killer? She wouldn't know how to notice the warning signs... not that he could say he was any judge of psychos. He had to get more information, try to find out who this man was. He joined her on the sofa. "So what's the hero's name?"  


"Why?" Her eyes evaded his, settling on his partner's face. 

"Just curious." 

"Ni lo creo." She joked, turning to face him and looking deeply into his eyes. Shock, followed rapidly by anger, crossed her face. She read worry, speculation, suspicion... and something else, something that reminded her of another time and place. She reacted bitterly to the last emotion. "Nobody owns or controls me. No one tells me who I may or may not befriend. I am, like, so out of here." 

Jim's hands on her leg kept her sitting on the couch. AJ tried to remove his hands so she could leave. Instead the big man caught both of her hands in one of his. The other hand rose to her chin and forced her to look at him. Pale blue eyes met pale green eyes, one set calm and determined, the other furious and defiant. 

"He's just worrying about you." The voice he used was soft, quiet. He sat down on the edge of the table, boxing her in between Blair and the arm of the sofa. "The Dean made you his responsibility. That gives him reason to care. You are our friend, not to mention the fact that by Chopec law, you're my little sister. Both of us have plenty of reasons to care. We know your history, and that makes us worry even more. There aren't too many innocents running around Cascade. We don't want anyone to hurt you." 

Blair gently pulled one of her hands from Jim's. He sat quietly, letting Jim try and explain. He had the feeling that if he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing even Jim wouldn't be able to force her to stay. 

"We just want to make sure you are safe. It's not that we think you can't take care of yourself. We both know you can handle a lot of things. But you are used to handling things in relatively uncivilized places. As far as most college students, you are a babe in the woods." Jim kept his eyes on AJ's, reading the thoughts flittering through them. 

"I think I missed something in translation." Her eyes were wary as she looked from the sentinel to his guide. "I can take care of myself. I've already proved that. If I have to I can stop someone from hurting me." 

"That's not what I mean." Jim looked embarrassed by the turn the conversation was taking, but he wasn't backing down. "We both know that you haven't been ... well with anyone before and it can be dangerous without proper... I mean, well, it's not like you've been..." The look he shot at Blair was slightly lost and finally he blurted out what he meant. "You're an innocent, especially when it comes to relationships." 

"You know what?!?" AJ screeched, her voice hitting pitches that made the wine glasses in the kitchen vibrate. 

Jim pulled back, grabbing his ears. Finding herself free, AJ scrambled over the back of the couch. Blair ignored her, reaching for his sentinel. He murmured under his breath, alternating between cursing at the young woman and considering vile punishments. He knew she knew sentinels have sensitive hearing. 

Jim glared up at her and had to grin after a moment. AJ was as red as a beet and still getting redder. She leaned on the back of the couch, watching him warily. From the expression on her face she was torn between worry at his reaction and outrage at his comment. 

"Ooops?" she offered softly. "I forgot." 

"Ouch," he murmured. His eyes shut as he fought back a sigh of mixed pain and relief. "Yeah, you're forgiven, Hidalga." 

"Thank you." Her tone was formal. She watched them warily as she gingerly sat on the back of the couch. She closed her eyes and blushed again, biting her lip. "How did you know?" 

"When you were sick, we saw the virgin's cord." Blair explained gently. At his words, AJ's hand crept to the leather and bead cord at her waist. He glanced at the other man and shrugged. "Both of us recognized it for what it is. As long as you wear that, well, people like us will recognize it." 

"I guess I've picked up a lot of un-American habits." 

"Let me see, tribal taboos, carrying curare tipped darts, camera always with you, door locks, I'd say just a few." 

"I lock the doors." 

"Only after I reminded you," Jim growled at her. Both of the men had to grin at the memory of sneaking up on AJ earlier that week. 

She glared at them for a moment before she began to chuckle. "Maybe, but I still decked you fairly well." 

Blair struggled with what he wanted to say. She was just too trusting about this. "AJ, do you know how dangerous dating is in America?" 

"Yes, Blair, I know. I've met some of your old girlfriends and they've warned me." 

Jim choked down a laugh and leaned down, arms wrapping around his ribs. He looked over at his partner, trying not to laugh at the embarrassed expression on his face but couldn't. He began laughing loudly; the sound of his deep rumble forming a counterpoint to AJ's higher pitched chuckles. The younger man cuffed the older one's head, laughing himself. 

AJ sat on the back of the couch, enjoying the moment, watching the two men. When she was no longer paying attention to him, the ex-ranger grabbed her arms, tumbling her onto the couch. With the same smooth move, he went from sitting on the coffee table to leaning above her, his hand on her throat. 

"You can't let your guard down until you know this man. Please be careful." Jim's words stopped as her free hand moved slightly. A knife pricked his chest. When he released her throat, the knife withdrew. 

"I will be careful." Her eyes were serious as she grinned at him. 

"Tell us his name?" 

"And have the two of you make our lives a living hell? No." 

"AJ, this is serious. We worry about you." He solemnly stared down at her. "We don't want you to rush into something and get hurt. Physically or emotionally." 

"I promise not to rush anything, but I'm only here another seven, maybe eight, weeks. Once Uncle Zel arrives, I'll be leaving." AJ refused to let her thoughts dwell on Zel's disappearance. He would arrive in December. He had to. She refused to accept any other thought or possibility. She looked up at the two faces above her and smiled softly at them. "I will talk to you before I make any 'life changing' decisions. And I won't let him push me into anything. Good enough?" 

Blue eyes looked at each other and came to an agreement. Blair leaned forward, patting the tightly coiled hair. Then, with a wicked grin, he retreated, pulling out a handful of the hairpins. Jim reached down and picked out another handful. Then they sat her back up, hair cascading around her. Blair quickly ruffled the heavy locks, spreading them across the couch. 

"Hey!" she grumbled as they stepped away. 

"What do you think, Chief?" 

"It'll take the little goose girl at least an hour to get that straightened out." 

"Whose turn is it to cook?" 

"Pizza?" 

A small voice spoke from under the mound of hair. "What's pizza?" 

Two incredulous pairs of blue eyes turned to look down at the young woman. In unison, the two men spoke. "Pizza it is." 

Major Crimes Department, 23 October 

Rafe whistled happily as he typed up his report. Jim and Blair stopped at his desk to peer over his shoulder. They frowned and shook their heads. 

"Solve the case?" Jim asked, sipping his coffee. 

"Yep. I met a student who gave me a couple of clues. Turns out one of the assistants was short of cash and selling university equipment on the side." Rafe finished the form and hit the print button. He turned to look up at the tall detective. "What?" 

"You're awfully happy. Too happy." 

"Don't you have something better to do?" 

Jim looked over at his desk and shook his head. He looked at Blair. Blair shook his head. "We're finished our paperwork and I don't have to be in court for another hour. Nope, nothing better to do." 

"So, what's the student's name?" 

"Candy Jones. Nice girl, Sgt. Howard's niece." 

"So, who has you so happy?" Blair rephrased his question. 

"Oh, no, you don't. There is no way I'm telling you her name. The next thing I know, you'd pull out that Sandburg charm and she'd be part of your harem." Rafe folded his arms and glared at the younger man. 

Ellison choked on his coffee and had a hard time swallowing for a moment. Once he'd gotten his breath back, he grabbed his partner by the scruff of the neck and began herding him back to their desks. His words were broken up by muted laughter. "Come on, Chief. We know when we're not welcome." 

Rainier University Apartments, that afternoon 

AJ jumped as the phone rang. Blair paused, his coat half on as he watched. She grabbed the phone and raised it to her ear, eyes expectant. 

"Aloa?" The accented voice was husky, hopeful. The growing light in her eyes told him that her new friend was calling. She caught his eye and spoke softly. "Could you hold for a moment?" 

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Blair hoped she'd tell him to stay. 

"I'll be fine. I promise to stay off my leg and rest." She smiled, trying to reassure him. "I'll see you in the morning." 

"If you're sure." Blair zipped the coat, and out of excuses, let himself out. Then, with one of his wicked smiles, pulled out his spare key and locked her in. If she was really staying put, the door needed to be locked, didn't it? He chuckled as he walked down the hall. 

"No, you're not interrupting anything. My friend was leaving anyway." Kyrie listened to Rafe's voice over the phone. Closing her eyes, she could picture him sitting beside her. She smiled dreamily. 

"What was that about your leg?" Rafe's voice was worried. He wished he could see Kyrie. Something was wrong, he could tell from her voice. 

"I did a little too much and it doesn't like me." Her accent was softer than normal as she concentrated on listening to Rafe and what was going on in the background. "What are you doing?" 

"I just got off work. I was heading home." He paused, wondering if his next suggestion would be considered moving too fast. "I was going to ask you out to dinner. But, since you can't walk, maybe I could bring dinner to you." 

Kyrie bit her lip, tilting her head back and resting it against the wall. She smiled into the phone, "I don't know. I've been warned against trusting too easily." 

"Okay, maybe that is going too fast." He frowned at the traffic around him as spoke into the cell phone. "How about when you get back on your feet, I take you out? Dinner and a movie?" 

"That sounds reasonable." She smiled, listening to him contentedly as the sounds of traffic disappeared. He must be pulling up to his house. 

"Look, I need to call you back. I want to talk on a real phone." He got out of his car, still talking softly to the quiet woman on the line. 

"Give me a few minutes to eat first?" 

"Sounds good to me." He smiled as he put his key into the lock. "I missed you today." 

"I missed you too, Rafe." Kyrie whispered back, tears catching her unawares. 

"Hey, are you okay?" He heard the catch in her breath. He knew she was close to tears. How could he know that? "Kyrie?" 

"I'm fine, Rafe. It's just been a long day." AJ fought against the visions that had been teasing her all day. They had not let her sleep and she refused to let them ruin her evening. 

"Talk to me. Tell me about it." He turned, heading back to the car. "Do you want me to come by?" 

"No. I'm fine. There's nothing to tell. Just a long day working and I'm tired." She smiled at him over the phone. "Take your coat off and go eat. Call me in a little while. I'll be waiting." 

"Only if you're sure you'll be okay." 

"I'm sure." 

25 October, Major Crimes Department 

"Hey, Brown?" Ellison's voice was soft. "Did you and Rafe have a stakeout last night?" 

The detective slowly shook his head. He looked over at the dozing man. "Must have had another late night. He seems to be having them lately." 

Hazel eyes opened and looked at them warily. "I'm awake." 

"Good." Megan walked up, a folder in her hand. "We have a new case." 

"You're my partner on this?" 

"Yes, we get to play married. Is that a problem?" The grinning Aussie sat on his desk. "I wouldn't want your lady friend to get anxious." 

"How did you...?" 

She pursed her lips and held out a pink 'while you were out' message slip. "She left a message on your voice mail. I hit the wrong number when I tried to access mine this morning." 

"Give me that." Rafe snatched the paper from the other detective's hand and read it quickly. With a smile he shoved it in his pocket. 

"Hey, Megan?" Blair pushed his glasses back on his nose, watching the interplay from his desk. "What did it say?" 

"You think _I_ give out other people's messages?" Her tone sounded hurt. 

Jim held up a five-dollar bill. "I'll pay for the message." 

Megan held out her hand. When he laid it on her palm, she began quoting the message. "I'll meet you there at seven. I miss you too. Kyrie."   


"A date? You have a date?" Blair grinned at the man. "It's 4 o'clock now. If you leave now, you _might_, and I do stress _might,_ be presentable by then." 

The other detectives in the bullpen laughed at the comment as the man they teased about being a GQ fashion plate looked at himself with a frown. 

Rainier University Apartments 

"Blair. This is Fortaleza. I won't be home later. I'm going to the movies with my friend. This is just so you don't worry. We're going to see that movie you were raving about." AJ smiled into the phone. She slowly stroked the silk blouse she was wearing. "Oh, thank you for the shirt. You're right. Silk is the best of sensations." 

A moment later, she skipped out the door. She had just enough time to catch the bus. She didn't want to be late meeting Rafe. 

852 Prospect, #307 

"Jim, I'm worried about her. It's after eleven and she's not home." Blair paced the loft, hands raking through his hair. 

"Blair." Jim grabbed the younger man and pulled him to a stop. "Let it go. She's a big girl." 

"But, she..." 

"She told us to back off. She doesn't want us to interfere." Jim was trying hard not to laugh at the younger man's antics. He could not believe how touchy Blair was about AJ. After all the lectures he had received over the years about Blair having the right to stay out all night without a big brother waiting up for his return, to see Blair doing the same thing was more than amusing. The sound of the phone made them both jump. 

Blair raced to pick up the line. He whispered a rapid prayer as he skidded across the wooden floor. "Let it be her, please." 

Jim smiled to himself as he grabbed the receiver before Blair could get it. He barked into it as he held it between their heads. "Ellison." 

"Fortaleza." The echo of his tone was enough to make him grin. AJ sounded happy. "Just checking in. I'm home and alone. Satisfied?" 

"Go to bed, kid." Jim growled at her. 

"You too," was the smart reply. 

"I intend to." He hung up the phone on her stifled laughter. "Now, do you think you can let us go to sleep, Chief?" 

26 October, Etterman Wing, Natural history Museum of Cascade. 

"Blair?" 

"What's up, A.J.?" He looked up to see her hanging from the museum rafters. _Thank goodness he didn't have to hang the flying displays_, he thought, wincing at the sight. 

She hung upside down from a cable, one leg wrapped around the black rope, holding herself steady. Her hair hung from her head like a braided rope. She carefully attached a thin fishing line to a display. Measuring the distances with her eyes, she began tightening the nearly invisible threads, pulling the display fully upright. Finishing, she looked over at him. 

"Do you know how to dance?" She looked away and then rotated back towards him. 

"What kind of dance?" He set the statue he was working on down in its frame. He adjusted it, keeping an eye on the dangling woman. 

"You know, American dances, the kind you dance at school. Like the waltz, Fox trot, Charleston, couple dances, that kind of thing." With an abrupt flip, she righted herself and descended. She stared up at the hanging canopy before nodding and disconnecting her climbing rig. 

"Why?" 

"I want to go to the end of semester dance." She picked up her camera and began photographing the display. 

"Another date with your friend?" 

She turned and caught his worried look. The camera flashed in her hands, catching his expression. "It's a group thing. The girls from the photo class I'm helping with asked me." 

"You're making more friends? That's great." Blair beamed at her. He was delighted. First, she meets a guy, okay, he still wasn't happy about that one, but it was a start. Now, she's making friends with other females about her age. Things were going great. Maybe life would stay on an upswing for a while. 

"I don't know how to dance. Well, not real dances." The words were stilted, embarrassed, and harsh, even with the musical accent. She looked down at her feet, her fingers fiddling with the camera. At Blair's stunned silence, she spoke softly, sounding lost. "Never mind. I shouldn't go anyway." 

"What do you mean, you shouldn't go?" Blair walked over to her. His hands were gentle as he pulled her head up. Her eyes were sad and nervous as they met his. "I've seen you dance... you got up in front of my class and helped me show them the different styles of ritual dances. You're good at it." 

"But that's not the kind of dance I need to be able to do." Wide eyes met his and a pale face tried to pull away. Stark fear etched lines in her face before it was slammed away behind a cracking facade. "I can't do things other people my age can do! It's awful! I don't fit in here or anywhere else!" 

"You can go to the dance, there's nothing to stop you. No one will criticize you." He found himself using what Jim called his Guide tone, trying to calm her down. "It'll be okay." 

"No it won't. I don't know how to waltz or boogie or whatever it is that they do." Tears were being held firmly at bay. He could see the effort it took for her to hold them inside. "I don't want to disappoint the girls. It means so much to them that I agreed to go." 

"I'll teach you. After we finish here, we'll go to the loft and dance." His voice was still low. His face reflected her pain. Blair remembered the feeling of not fitting in with the others at school. He remembered how bad it felt to realize that everyone else in the group took for granted things he'd never experienced. Every now and then, her background hit him hard as it mirrored his own. He pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her forehead. His whisper was more to himself than to her. "You'll be the belle of the ball, sweetheart." 

852 Prospect , #307 

Jim looked up at the loft in puzzlement. Beside him, Megan Connor froze, her words stopping as she waited for him. The Australian was on her way up to pick up a book she had loaned Blair several months ago. Every time Blair intended to return it to her, something came up and it ended up back at the loft. Jim watched the loft and after a moment smiled. 

He could hear the strains of soft music, music that he wasn't used to hearing. He heard Blair's heartbeat and another, Fortaleza's. The other noises were confusing, though. Soft thumps, almost like steps but not quite. Then a slide and another thump. No voices, no laughter, none of the things he'd come to expect when she showed up. A single shadow crossed the curtain. It was Blair's shadow and it slowly swayed and dipped its way past the window. 

The music stopped. Blair spoke quietly. "Think you can do that?" 

"I'll try." The accented voice was toneless. The silhouette that crossed the curtain was tense and moved far too stiffly. Fear accented every move. 

"Let's try it together. Just follow my lead." The gentle voice wrapped itself around his sensitive hearing. He watched as Blair's shadow joined AJ's and they began to dance. Slowly, the stiffness left the woman's body and she leaned into Blair. He smiled to himself as he listened to the softly whispered instructions. 

"Looks like it's dance night." He whispered to the puzzled woman as the silhouette crossed the window again. "Come on, let's join them." 

They quietly entered the loft, listening as Blair instructed his dance partner's moves. AJ listened to his soft words, so focused she never heard their entrance. Her head rested on Blair's shoulder as he led her in the waltz. Blair's eyes met his and Jim heard Blair's heart rate speed up. The sentinel grinned mischievously and placed his finger to his lips. 

AJ's eyes flew open as Jim tapped her shoulder. "May I cut in?" 

Wary eyes met his as she sought Blair's agreement before nodding. Jim took her hand and smoothly led her into a whirl. After a moment's shocked stiffness, she relaxed, allowing him to lead her around the room. As the music ended, he murmured. "Has he shown you how to tango?" 

"No." Her voice was soft, her eyes wide, waiting for his next move. 

Jim's every move was correct and proper as her led her over to the couch and sat her down. With a wicked grin, he kissed her fingers, bowed and winked. "Prepare to watch one of the most sensual dances in existence." 

Blair's eyebrows rose as he watched the quiet exchange. He knew his partner was up to something, he just wasn't sure what. The detective strode over to the sound system and inspected the CD's laying out on it. Then he rapidly went through his music collection until he found the disc he was looking for. He smiled wickedly at his partner and cued the music. He stalked over to Megan and waited for the song to begin. 

At the first strain of the violin, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to his chest. As the music played, the two flowed about the room. The dance started simply, following the normal course of the tango, two figures spinning apart and together again. 

The dark music and the fluid moves formed an erotic counterpoint to each other. Slowly, the sentinel trailed his body along his partner's, teasing without touching. The music thundered in their ears, blinding their senses to everything else. The tension climbed, driven by the throbbing beat of the music, the close contact of their bodies and the heated glances they kept exchanging. 

Watching her friends dance was fascinating. Without even noticing what she was doing, Fortaleza pulled out a camera and began shooting film of the two of them. The forceful movements and the synchronicity between the two moving bodies were perfect. Too perfect to miss. So this was the tango, she mused as she rapidly took pictures of the dancers. The fleeting brushes of their bodies and the long, clinging glances were more than she thought she could manage. As the film sped through her camera, she made up her mind. She had no idea what plans the sentinel had, but she had a feeling that she was not expected or needed. It was time to leave. 

When the music ended, Jim and Megan grinned at each other as Blair clapped. 

"Well, mate, if I had known you could tango, I would have asked you out dancing." Megan quipped, eyeing Jim with a speculative gleam in her eye. 

"The question would be, who gets to lead?" Jim teased her. 

"Depends on the dance, Jimbo." 

"Um, guys?" Blair interrupted. "Did either of you notice that AJ left?" 

"Did we scare her off?" Megan looked a little flustered at the thought. "She's not dating you, is she Jim?" 

"No. She's just a friend." Jim answered. 

To which Blair muttered, "Friend? He worries over her as much as he worries over me." 

Jim glared at his partner, ignoring the amused expression on Megan Connor's face as he headed for the telephone. "And just who was pacing and arguing for her to have a curfew on Sunday?" He responded as he dialed a number. "No answer. Remind me to get her an answering machine. I hate not being able to leave her a message." 

Megan couldn't help herself. At the frustrated look both men threw at the phone, she burst out laughing. "Remind me to thank my brothers for not being like you! I would have gone bonkers with you in the family." 

Blair and Jim looked at each other, neither quite understanding why Megan only laughed harder. 

27 October, Rainier University Apartments 

AJ smiled at Rafe as he raised his eyebrows. "I'd love to! I have to call someone first, though. I'll just be a minute, Rafe. Thanks, querido." The phone rang as she reached for it. 

"Aloa." She answered the phone with a grin. She knew who it was and why he was calling. 

"Good morning, Sunshine." Jim's voice was always gravely this early in the morning. "Blair said you two did a lot of work at the museum last night. I just wanted to make sure you made it home safely." 

"Como siempre." She murmured. She laughed as he yawned sleepily in her ear. "Tired?" 

"A little. Blair's going to be late." 

"Let him sleep in, Enqueri. He has the day off and he deserves it." AJ watched through the open doorway as Rafe studied the books on her living room shelf. "I made him work hard at the museum." 

"Yeah, he did." The deep voice was amused. "About last night..." 

"No problem at all. You two were kind of occupied. I don't think you need to teach me the tango. It might give people the wrong idea." She smiled, as Jim began to splutter a denial to her comment. She decided to change the subject. "I take up enough of your time as it is, so I'll see about getting dance lessons elsewhere. Okay? Enjoy your day off, both of you." 

"How do you know my schedule?" He was curious, but not too suspicious. Fortaleza could ferret information out of just about anyone, he'd discovered. 

"I have my ways." Her accented words made him laugh. She listened to him for a moment before saying good-bye and hanging up the phone. 

She quickly crossed back into the living room, watching as Rafe gracefully turned to face her. She wondered if he knew how to tango. Maybe he could teach her. That thought made her wonder speculatively if they would generate as much heat and passion as the tango she had watched the night before. She smiled softly. She thought they would. 

"So, are you ready to go?" The smile he gave made AJ slightly breathless. She nodded, placing her hand in his. 

"Do you know how to dance, Rafe?" she asked as they walked out the door. 

30 October, Rainier University Apartments 

Rafe would arrive soon and she wasn't ready. She looked around and sighed. Her new clothes were strewn all over the room. She just couldn't decide what to wear. Her face was rueful as she smoothed the skirt of her white dress. When she'd allowed Blair to talk her into buying it, she'd thought it was perfect. Now she wasn't quite so sure. 

She turned; her eyes on the mirror as she double checked her outfit. The warm, silky material flowed and sighed under her hands, briefly clinging to her like a second skin. She still wasn't used to the way the full skirt flared out, its handkerchief styling fluttering around her legs. The material clung to her from collarbone to waist and along both of her arms, making her feel wanton. But she had to admit to herself that she liked the feeling. 

There was a firm knock on the door. Biting her lip, she looked down at herself again and raced to the spy hole. Rafe stood, leaning back slightly, watching the lower edge of the door. He smiled and looked at the viewer. 

"Hi." She opened the door shyly. She hadn't worn a dress in so long; she wasn't certain how she looked. The slow smile of delight that spread across his face dissolved her fears. 

His eyes widened as they roved over her, taking in the changes in her. He'd never seen her in anything except jeans and her boots. He'd known she was pretty before, but now he was stunned. The difference was well worth whatever time she'd spent getting ready for his arrival. He brought his hand from behind his back, showing her a single rosebud. The tightly closed flower was a velvety red; the edges tinted a golden yellow. "You look lovely, Kyrie." 

"Thank you, Bri." She stepped back, opening the door fully. "Would you like to come in?" 

Rafe stepped up to her, bring the rose to her cheek and slowly trailed it across the bone. His free hand closed the door, as he leaned close to the wide eyed woman. His hazel eyes were locked on her pale green ones as he slowly dipped his head. When his lips touched hers, both of them closed their eyes. 

He nibbled gently on her lower lip, tugging on it lightly. He felt Kyrie's lips part as her arms came up to grip his dark jacket. Taking her movement for the shy permission it was, Rafe deepened the kiss, keeping his moves slow and gentle. He traced the line of her lips, still nibbling on them. As her mouth opened wider, his tongue slid into her, sipping and tasting her mouth. Then her tongue traced his and began it's own exploration. The rose fell forgotten to the floor as he brought his hands up to hold onto the woman who was blowing away all of his expectations. He'd been wondering what it would be like to kiss her and each time they got together, his curiosity had grown. 

Kyrie could feel Rafe's fingers gently massaging her scalp as they cupped her skull. The two large hands held her as if afraid she would bolt or break. When the kiss ended, the hands stayed as he pulled back slightly. She opened her eyes dreamily to find him watching her. A thumb slowly slid over the sensitive skin of her cheek down to her lips. There it paused, rubbing lightly. 

"No one has ever kissed you before." Rafe's words were quiet and astonished. His eyes were dark, gleaming with an emotion she was not familiar with. She blushed furiously at his comment. 

"I guess it's pretty obvious," she murmured, looking down at his chest. 

"Yeah, it is." Rafe's voice was lower and deeper than normal. 

"Am I that bad?" 

He gently tipped her head back, forcing her to look at him. His lips gently claimed hers again. "It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. I can't believe you waited so long . . ." 

"I never wanted anyone to kiss me before." Kyrie felt her eyes widen at the husky sound of her own voice. Rafe smiled softly at her. 

"Thank you." He leaned down and kissed her lips gently. 

"For what?" She was confused. She looked up at him, still dazed from the kiss. 

Rafe sighed and pulled his hands out of her hair. With one hand he cupped her cheek, closing his eyes briefly as she leaned into his palm. His words were a surprise to both of them. "For waiting for me. Every first is special. It's precious and shouldn't be undervalued." 

Kyrie smiled at him. Then she turned and kissed his palm, breathing deeply the scent of his skin, memorizing the texture of it against the softness of her skin. She felt him shudder and looked into his eyes. They had narrowed, darkening further, as he took in the sensation. A small voice in her head told her that he was looking at her the way Ayuane looked at his wife when they didn't realize she was around. The thought that she might have found what her Calim'a friends shared made her smile. 

Rafe held onto her, playing with a long strand of hair that had escaped the complicated twist she had arranged it in. This was the first time he'd seen it, even partially, loose. 

"Let me see it down?" 

She looked at him, her eyes wary again. To Rafe, she knew, the request was a simple one. She considered the idea. How many people had ever seen her, literally, with her hair down? Only those few she trusted and considered family and she could literally count them on her fingertips. Her fingers trembled slightly as she began reaching for the hairpins. 

"No. Let me do it." Rafe's voice was quiet as he easily read the emotions as they crossed her face. He reached up and pulled the first pin out of her hair. He paused at the second, startled by the weight of it. Slowly he pulled it out. Made of fine steel, it came to a sharp and deadly point. He raised an eyebrow. "Is that for me?" 

"A person always needs to be able to enforce her opinions." Her voice was low, but held a cold edge. The gentle woman he'd been kissing disappeared as her face changed, hardening at a memory. "Some people don't listen and don't understand the word 'no'." 

"Tell me his name, Kyrie." Rafe's voice was hard, his jaw clenching in fury. The idea that a man could consider it consensual when a woman said 'no' always bothered him. The thought that someone had tried, maybe succeeded with the woman in his arms, made him furious. 

"He's dead." Her eyes stared up at him, watching his reaction, cataloging it. "My people took care of it then and there. He didn't hurt me. He just scared me a lot." 

The taut shoulders relaxed as the fear left him. Rafe bent down to kiss her again, keeping it light and brief. "I'm glad your friends took care of him." 

She reached up with one hand and traced his lips with a trembling finger. Then she reached up and rapidly pulled out the pins holding her hair up, freeing it. Like a slow moving avalanche, the long tresses slowly slid down, cascading over her shoulders and back. Rafe's hands met hers and together they pushed it away from her face. He met her eyes as he lifted a lock to his face, rubbing it between his fingers. 

"Vanilla. You smell like vanilla." He breathed in, the lock of hair held close to his nose. 

"I like vanilla." 

"I like the scent on you." He found his head bowing to hers again and their lips met. This time there was no hesitation as she kissed him back. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to her. His fingers wound through her hair, tilting her head and holding her in place. As the kiss deepened, they both pressed closer together, each trying become part of the other. 

They finally broke the kiss, fighting for breath. Rafe loosened his fingers, unwrapping them from her hair. He ran his fingertips along her jaw, noting the rapid tempo of the vein there. Her lips were swollen, glistening moistly, and tempting him far too much. 

"We need to leave if we're going to eat before we go to the dance lesson." He spoke slowly, fighting the urge to claim those lips again. 

"Let me put my hair back up." She stepped back, turning away from him. 

"Leave it down for me?" He asked, watching as it rippled with her movements. 

"I..." she looked at him and then shook her head, blushing. "Where I grew up, things are very different. There, a woman lets her hair down in front of their family, in her home. After puberty, no woman lets it down in public except at her wedding, family burials... things like that. Unless she's a loose woman, a... a prostitute. It's hard to change that idea, that custom." 

Rafe stepped up to her and wrapped his arms loosely around her, pulling her to his chest. He rested his chin on her head. "If it bothers you, then put it back up. We both know that you are not a loose woman, Kyrie." 

He followed her silently into the bedroom. There he sat her down in front of the mirror and picked up her brush. He brushed out the long brown tresses, watching her watch him in the mirror. The two of them slowly pulled her hair up and pinned it back into the intricate twist. The mirror and its ability to allow them to exchange long silent glances hindered them greatly. As did Rafe's fascination with Kyrie's bared neck. 

"What time is that lesson?" Kyrie whispered as he explored the line of her neck with his fingers. Their eyes met in the mirror again. 

"Eight." 

Her eyes flickered over to the clock. "As in 15 minutes from now?" 

He bolted upright and looked at his watch. His cheeks began to darken. "Well, so much for dinner. If I run the lights, we can make it on time." 

"Lights? What do lights have to do with getting to the class?" She let him help her to her feet. 

Rafe led her to the front door, grabbing her coat from the closet. He was helping her into it as he spoke so he didn't see how pale she became. "It's one of the side benefits of being a cop. I can talk my way out of traffic tickets." 

Silently, she prayed she'd misheard him, but she knew she hadn't. She'd known there could only be one Rafe. She'd heard Blair and Jim mention working with a Detective Rafe. So she'd had no excuse, she'd known he had to be a cop. She'd just refused to believe. She was just glad he wasn't a member of the Major Crimes Department. Trying to keep the sentinel out of her love life would be impossible if he was. Thanks to Cage's photo, she knew all of them on sight. 

She trusted Rafe. He was a good man. She trusted her instincts and her instincts told her only good things about him. The uniform was not the same here as it was elsewhere. Here good police officers existed. She'd already met several, Ellison, Connor, Banks, and Sandburg, even if he was just an observer. She'd just have to take things as they came and trust her instincts. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad. 

Kyrie forced herself to release the breath she was holding. Now was not the time for a panic attack. Rafe was safe. They were going dancing and were going to enjoy themselves. She had nothing to worry about. She missed the look he gave her as she carefully schooled her expression. The quick realization and the dawning understanding in Rafe's eyes as he noted her quickly controlled panic would have sent her carefully arranged thoughts into a tailspin. 

31 October, Rainier University Apartments 

She woke suddenly, but didn't move or change her breathing pattern. Someone was in the room with her. Someone who hadn't been there when she'd gone to sleep. She rolled, knife slipping into her hand. She sat up, ready to throw the knife, and opened her eyes. 

Jim Ellison was leaning against her doorframe. 

"Good morning, Sunshine." He smiled wickedly. "You're late for breakfast." 

"So you let yourself in and tried to see if you could scare me?" She stretched sleepily, eyeing the grinning sentinel. With a shrug, she snuggled back down into the bedcovers. 

"You always meet me in the drive when I come to pick you up for breakfast." The gray blue eyes watched her thoughtfully. The room smelled as if someone had been there, but it was too faint, too long ago, for him to decide if he knew the person. The other room had too many scents for him to make sense of without Blair to guide him. He moved over to the bed and sat down. "I take it you had a late night?" 

"Yes. He brought me home around three." 

"Look, it really isn't my business, but how well do you know him? There are a lot of diseases running around. Are you sure you know what you're doing?" The tall man felt embarrassed even as he asked the questions. Somehow, he'd found himself in the role of big brother and it wasn't always the easiest of positions. 

"Nothing happened. We had a dance class until eleven and then we went out to eat. We closed the cafe, just sitting around drinking tea and talking." AJ grinned and sat up, sliding the knife back under her pillow. She stretched again, yawning sleepily at Ellison. "It was fun and different." 

"I'm allowed to worry about you." He met her eyes, trying to convey the meaning behind his words. AJ shook her head at him with a grin. 

"Yes, oh, Sentinel and Protector of the tribe." She ducked as he hit her with the spare pillow. "Hey!" 

"It's part of the job description." He reached over and traced one of the tattoos on her shoulder lightly. "As long as you wear that, you are part of the tribe I swore to protect." 

She sighed and nodded, acknowledging the hit. "So, why didn't just call me from your cell phone and wake me up? Why come in and try to get knifed?" 

"I did call. You didn't answer the phone, but I could hear your heartbeat, so I came in to check it out." He watched as she bolted from the bed, frowning fiercely. 

He grabbed her robe and followed her to the living room. There she accepted it, pulling it on over her sleeveless gown. She tried the phone. After a moment she hung up, still frowning as she stared thoughtfully at the phone. "That's odd. No dial tone." 

"Must be out of order. I've noticed that the lines on campus have a tendency to fail on a regular basis, especially when they are doing new construction. If you call maintenance from the loft, they can probably fix it before lunch." He bent down and studied the rose sitting in its vase on the table. It had begun to open, golden edges showing on the deep red petals. "Nice rose. Are you still coming over for breakfast? Or are you going back to sleep?" 

"And miss Blair's pancakes? No way, Ellison. I plan on eating my share. Besides I wanted to talk to you anyway." AJ headed back to her room. She yawned as she passed the sentinel, her head tilting to the side. With her eyes half closed, she missed the way his eyes narrowed as he looked at her. He grabbed her arm and tilted her head back. 

"You'd better tell him to go easy on your skin, kid." His eyes were flat. His finger traced a faint mark on her throat. "It took you a long time to loose the bruises the thieves put on your neck. I don't think you need any new ones." 

"What are you talking about?" She pulled away from his grip and went to the mirror. "I don't see anything, Enqueri. Look at my skin with your sight set at normal levels." 

"I still see it there." He murmured, turning down his sight. It was barely notable unless you knew the mark was there. The kid bruised too easily for his sanity. 

"Can you wait for me to take a shower?" She turned away, heading for the shower. 

"Yeah. So, what did you want to talk about?" He heard the shower start. Knowing her the way he did, she would expect him to be listening and kept talking. 

"Why are you a policeman?" 

He thought about that for a moment. Jim never asked, but he had noticed that she avoided the station and carefully skirted anyone in uniform. The information he'd been able to gather on her was often vague, very little substance in the file at all. The only clue he had for her phobia was the fact that her mentor, Dr. Zelinski, had been jailed in Chile during the 1980's. It had taken an international outcry to obtain the release of the renowned anthropologist. There was no mention of her location at the time, but he had a feeling she'd been there. Pinochet's uniformed goons had given an entire generation a deep fear of uniforms and government. Between that information and the black and white photograph from her files, he could guess at the reasons for her avoidance. 

He waited for the water to stop. "To me, being a police officer is part of who I am. Here the motto of the police is 'to protect and serve'. Blair says it's the same instinct that makes a sentinel patrol his village. I think a lot of the officers in my precinct have the same instinct." 

AJ stepped out of the bathroom, tucking her T-shirt into her jeans. She looked at him critically before nodding and grabbing her boots. "I think I can accept that." 

As they went to leave, she paused and looked around the living room. Something wasn't quite right. Then she noticed. "Thank you for finding a vase for the rose. I forgot all about it last night." 

Jim froze and looked around at her. "I didn't do it." 

She stopped and turned to him. "Are you sure? I'm sure I left the rose on the table last night. We were running late to our class and then I was too tired to think about it when I got home this morning." 

"Maybe your friend put it in the vase when he brought you home." 

"He walked me to the door. He didn't come in, Jim." 

He pulled out his cell phone and pushed the speed dial. "Sandburg, yeah, we're running late. No, she's fine, just overslept. I want to check something out before we leave. Yeah, you can talk to her." 

"Blair?" AJ watched as the detective began pacing the living room, searching for anything that didn't belong. "I'll try not to let him get into anything and I'll get him home as quickly as I can. Look, I can't watch him and talk to you too. Bye." 

"Is anything else out of place?" He barked at her as she turned off the phone. 

"I don't think so, not today." At his glare, she shrugged. "Jim, I've been misplacing things lately. Nothing lost, just put away wrong. I thought that Blair moved them while we were working on the displays." 

Jim studied the lock on the door carefully. "It's been picked, probably more than once from the looks of it. We need to call it in." 

She sat down slowly. "What proof do you have? A rose put into a vase? Scratches on my lock? Things being moved in the living room? All of them are circumstantial. There would be no point in calling your police." 

"At least let me fill out the forms." 

"Fine, tomorrow when you go in. Not today. And I am _not_ going into the station." 

"I want to know everything about the man you've been seeing." At his words her head shot up. 

"No. It can't be him. Really, it can't." She saw his expression and backed down slightly. "He works at the police station too. You know him. He's trustworthy." 

"Give me his name then." 

She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. She knew that Rafe was not her intruder. She knew that the same way she knew she could trust Jim and Blair to back her up if she needed help. "No. Jim, I won't believe that of him. If I can't trust him, then I can't trust you either. You have a key, he doesn't." 

"AJ!" The insult hit him hard and he grabbed her arm, pulling her to face him. 

"Listen to what I'm saying. I _trust_ him. It comes from the same place that my trust for you comes from. If I can't trust the one feeling, how can I trust the other?" The big man tightened his grip on her arm. "That hurts, Sentinel. Enqueri, let go." 

He released her arm as if she'd burned him. She continued speaking. "I'm a trained shaman. I can read some things in people. If I'm wrong about him, if I'm misreading him, am I misreading you too?" 

"I will never try to hurt you, Hidalga. You should know that." 

"I do." She closed her eyes and sighed. The first steps had been taken and she had missed them. She had a lot of research to do and fast. But she would have to wait. "I know _you_ will not hurt me." 

"What do you think they want?" All of Ellison's senses were sifting the clues around them. Papers that weren't quite in the perfect files she kept, a man's cologne, an artifact not quite in the same place as it had been just a few days ago. The cologne, he knew that scent. Suddenly every little piece of evidence came together. The expensive cologne, the questions about the cops, the long nights... Rafe's tired behavior on matching mornings... yeah, Rafe would take good care of AJ. He wondered briefly if he should tell Blair and decided against it. Blair would accidentally mention it to someone or in front of someone and they were obviously being very quiet about the whole thing. He'd let it rest for now. 

"Whoever it is hasn't come in while I was home and attacked me. None of my personal stuff has been touched. It must be someone after the artifacts." AJ was running her fingers over a set of notes as she spoke, her mind racing. Notes, notes, which notes had disappeared, which had been moved. _The missing computer disks!_ _What had been on them? Nothing that would cause trouble, _ she decided after a long moment._ The king knife! I can't look for it with Jim in the apartment. I can't let it see him._

__

"I want you to move into the loft." 

"No, Enqueri. I won't do that." She stared at him, ignoring his angry glare. "I'll let you change my locks and I will report this to security. I'll tell them the same thing I told you. I think it's the artifacts and all of them are in the museum. Okay?" 

"For now, but if anything, no matter how small, happens you move into the loft." 

"I can accept that." She watched him, waiting for his acceptance. At his nod, she relaxed. She didn't finish the sentence aloud, knowing he would never accept it, _but not if it risks either of you. I refuse to let it come to that. _

852 Prospect, #307, much later that day 

Blair silently massaged his partner's shoulders. The big detective was as tense as a rock. Something didn't quite feel right about the day. The other two were trying to protect him from something. So he'd waited patiently, knowing that once AJ was gone he could get the information from Jim. 

"Want to talk about it?" he asked quietly. 

"What are the artifacts you work with worth?" 

"Depends on which ones. Most are worthless to anyone but a collector. Then they are priceless." He frowned. "Why is someone trying to steal them? It makes no sense, none at all. They'll have a hard time. They have some of the best security on some of the display cases I've seen in a long time." 

"Why?" Alarms were going off in Jim's head. He waited patiently for Blair's response. 

"You'd have to ask AJ." He frowned thoughtfully. "The content of those cases are supposed to be a special loan, but she hasn't received that shipment yet. What's going on?" 

"Someone went through her notes, rearranged things while she was out last night." 

"When is she moving in?" 

Jim had to smile at Blair's instant assumption. "She's not. Refuses to even think about it." 

"Why haven't you put her in protective custody?" 

"No proof. Just a really bad feeling." 

"That usually is enough for Simon. But I guess if AJ refuses to cooperate, he can't force the issue." 

"Got it in one." 

"So what are you going to do?" 

"I already advised the museum that there are rumors of a heist involving some of its antiquities. The department is going to send a regular drive by patrol for the rest of the semester." Jim looked over at his partner unhappily. "That's all I can do without a case to work." 

"What about the guy she's seeing? Could he be part of it?" 

"No. He's safe. In fact, I think he's probably safer than anyone I could introduce her to myself." Jim looked up in time to see the flash of pure astonishment that crossed Blair's face. He grinned wickedly. "She says she knows she can trust him the same way she knows to trust us. It took me a while, but I think I know who it is. If I'm right, he is a good man." 

"Oh. I guess that makes sense... to her at least. She still didn't tell you who he is but you figured it out.? So are you going to tell me?" Blair's voice was silenced as the bigger man grinned wickedly and shook his head. 

"Nope. I'm going to let them be and so are you." 

Rainier University Apartments, same time. 

She glared at the heavy obsidian blade on the table. The candle flames flickered off of the shiny black stone and the gold banding of its hilt glowed in the light. With quietly muttered words, she lit the herbs in the brazier next to the king knife. In the back of her head the knife's angry voice growled while premonitions and visions fought for her attention. 

"Ñoqa Kyrie Eleason Alessandre Jacobo Fortaleza y Trujillo ka-ni. Ñoqa sagrada ka-ni. Ñoqa amaru ka-ni. Kay-kuna amigu-s-ni-y, runa-y-kuna." AJ's voice picked up as she whispered the words. She set a photograph of Jim and Blair in front of the knife. She dropped a single strand of long curly hair and a pair of shorter, dark hairs on the knife. "The sentinel and the guide are my family. They are under my protection. As long as I am sagrada... as long as I am consegrada, you may not taste their blood." 

An unhappy wail rose in the back of her head. Ignoring it, she smoothed the linen dress, pushing a loose sleeve up, hooking it to her shoulder. The lowest group of tattoos was slightly swollen, the newest one surrounded by angry red skin. AJ's eyes were dark as she raised the king knife to the tattoo, letting the cool stone rest on the stylized eye over a shield. She waited for a long moment before placing the tip of the blade at the notch of her palm and pressing it home. Blood spilled, flowing thickly over the glittering black blade like a ribbon of liquid color. 

Her hard held barriers broke and visions of flames, blood, altars, and screams overwhelmed her. The knife fell to the floor as AJ collapsed. Beside her a young lynx whimpered, placing itself between the woman and the black blade. In the distance a howl echoed through the sound of a panther's roar but neither the unconscious woman or the lynx stirred. 

852 Prospect Ave, Apt 307 

"NO!" Blair's voice broke the silence. He sat up, eyes turning instinctively to the figure that rushed to his side. 

"Chief? What's wrong?" Jim's voice was worried. 

"Just a nightmare. Man, was it a doozy." He shook his head at his sentinel. "All I could see were... bodies. They were everywhere. I could see altars and masked priests of many differenct groups, all working together." He shuddered. 

Jim crouched at his side, studying his guide, measuring the still too rapid heartbeat. "You gonna be alright?" 

"Yeah, just no more of that new espresso while studying." Blair smiled up at his friend. Jim only shook his head and ruffled the younger man's hair. "Hey! Not the hair." 

"Goodnight, Chief." 


	9. Sailor Take Warning

The Storm by Ronnee 

Chapter 8: Bitter Winds 

31 October, Cascade Reservoir 

"What are you doing here, gentlemen?" Simon's voice was gruff as he met them at the truck. 

"I heard the call for backup and we were in the area." Jim replied, glancing at the activity along the beach. 

"What's up?" Blair asked, as he pulled his hat tight against the winds. 

Jim glanced over at his guide and shook his head. He didn't want to admit it, but with the cold arctic wind blowing off the water, Blair's furry earflaps were better than his Jags cap. He grinned at the thought of the laughter that he'd hear if he wore the thing. "What are we looking for, Simon?" 

"We're not sure. A kid called in from the pay phone by the rest area, he said he saw someone in the water. Then he hung up." Simon led them down to the water's edge. A pair of coats and a pile of boots lay beside the water. A little farther down the beach, paramedics were working on someone. "When the first patrolman got here, he managed to pull a boy from the water. From the looks of things here, two boys went in. Unfortunately, there's no sign of the other one or whoever they went in to save." 

"Any idea who the boy is?" Jim asked, eyes scanning the choppy water. 

"Mark Jansen, one of the best swimmers on the Cascade High School swim team." Simon replied. 

Jim nodded, ignoring Blair's murmured commentary on the cold winds. For a moment, he thought he'd seen something. Reflexively, he dialed up his eyesight. "How long before the divers and the boats get here?" 

"Another 20-25 minutes. We've also got a chopper on its way." Simon answered, watching their intent expressions as both his top detective and the unit's irrepressible observer focused all of their attention on the cold water. 

"That'll be too long. Tell them there's a kid out there, pretty far from the shore. It looks like he's ..." Jim paused, jaws tensing as he finally recognized the thing he saw. "There's an overturned boat. Looks like your other swimmer pulled someone from it." 

Before Simon could finish dialing the number, Jim had stripped out of his own coat and boots and was in the water. Two of the other officers quickly followed him. 

"Simon?" Blair asked, eyes focusing on the receding figure of his sentinel. "Why did they immediately follow Jim? I mean, they didn't even ask. They saw him go in and they followed." 

"Well, kid, they know Jim." Simon watched the three officers, ignoring the people who were crowding around him. He kept one hand on Blair's arm, as if to hold him in place. "They might ask later. Right now they know there's a missing kid, probably in the water, and Ellison has a reputation for finding missing people." 

Cascade General Hospital, Several hours later. 

Simon handed Ellison a Styrofoam cup. At the frown, the taller man grinned before handing another to Sandburg. Jim didn't like the emergency room, and being confined to a small cubicle wearing little more than a pile of warmed blankets didn't make him any happier. 

"It doesn't smell right." The sentinel groused, glaring at steam. He focused on it, eyes widening. Hesitatingly, he took a small sip. The smile that spread across his face was worth the captain's deception. "Thanks, sir." 

Blair Sandburg, professional observer of sentinels and their captains frowned thoughtfully. He turned quizzical eyes to the big captain before taking a sip of his own coffee. Instantly he smiled. The doctors had very reluctantly agreed to allow Jim a cup of coffee, from the hospital cafeteria. They were worried that whatever bacteria might be in the reservoir would make him ill but Jim's grousing and complaints had worn them down. When Simon offered to get the coffee himself, the harried, worn out nurse agreed. Of course, Simon hadn't said he was going to the cafeteria to get the coffee and Starbuck's was only a block or two away. Blair wondered how he had gotten the plain white cups but decided that enjoying the coffee wasn't worth the questions. 

"Any word on the kids?" Simon asked, watching the two men enjoy their coffee. 

"Not yet, sir." The grim set of Jim's jaw was reflected in his terse words. "If we hadn't stopped..." 

"You did. They have a better chance because of it. You got them to shore safely." Blair 

encouraged his partner, ignoring the quiet glance from the police captain. He decided to sidetrack them. "What I don't get is why name your boat after a god known for preferring his sacrifices to have been drowned." 

"What?" Two voices spoke as one. Hard, cold eyes speared him, one set brown, the other blue. 

"Please explain that comment to me in small words, Sandburg." Simon Banks' voice was almost as cold as the icy water above the Cascade dam. 

"The markings on the boat, sir." Blair looked from one big man to the other. "They were the Toltec pictographs for their river god. Every year the Toltec would sacrifice to him to keep the mountain streams flowing." 

"And what did they sacrifice?" 

"Hardened criminals were garroted before being set in sinking boats. Children were drowned in ceremonial clothes, in the same..." Blair's words trailed off at the closed expression on the men's faces. "Oh, no. Not in Cascade. No way. No one still practices the Toltec beliefs, not even in Central America." 

Simon gently thanked the anthropologist for his information and quickly stalked out of the exam room. Jim bowed his head, rubbing his temple in frustration as he silently digested the information. He hadn't told his friend about the body wrapped in oil cloth tied to the boat's keel. Out of an unspoken agreement, none of the cops had spoken of their findings and at the time, Sandburg had definitely not needed to know.  


Monday, 01 November, Major Crimes Dept. 

"Joel? Can I ask you something?" Rafe spoke softly to the older officer, trying not to disturb the rest of the bull pen. Everyone knew about Ellison's newest case and no one wanted to make him any angrier than he already was. Their best detective became dangerously volatile when he couldn't find any clues on a case and this one was already a bad one. 

Joel Taggart looked up, brown eyes curious. The smile on his face slowly faded as he read the seriousness of the young man's expression. He put down his pen and closed the file he had been working on. Somehow he knew it would be a while before he got back to it. "Police business or personal?" 

"Personal." The softly spoken reply was enough to confirm his first impression. This was definitely serious. 

He held up his hand, causing the other man to freeze and picked up the phone. "Simon, I have to cancel. Rafe and I'll be back as soon as we can. . . yeah, I'll take care of it." Hanging up the phone he grabbed his jacket. "We've got whatever time you need." 

"I didn't mean for you to..." Rafe began. He hadn't meant to get Joel or Simon really involved, he just wanted to ask a couple of questions. 

"Rafe, you have been dragging lately." Joel's usually jovial face was serious. He stood and began leading the way to the door. "No one, not even Sandburg knows the real reason why. We're worried. If you hadn't come to one of us by Friday, we would have come to you." 

Rafe felt the blush that was creeping up his face. He'd known that Brown was worried. The late hours talking to Kyrie, the worry over her reaction to his being on the force... the stress of the job. All had been taking their toll. For Joel and the others to have actually set a deadline for him to come and ask for help... that bothered him. And it embarrassed him even as it made him feel more a part of the group. 

Joel glanced over at the still figure. While never quite as verbose as Sandburg, the young man was rarely this quiet. Even before they left the station, Rafe had pulled into himself. He wondered briefly if he should have said what he did, but decided that the truth was the best policy. He pulled the car into an empty space. 

"Rafe?" His voice sounded so loud in the car that he startled them both. "We're here." 

"The park?" Confusion colored his companion's voice. "Why here?" 

"It's a nice day, at least for November." They both had to grin. It was a nice day for the time of year, especially as oddly cold as the fall had been so far. "Here we can talk, walk, and eat all at the same time." 

With a shrug, Rafe got out of the car and followed the captain into the park. Monday mornings were quiet at the park. The perfect place for a hard discussion. He could actually feel Joel's patience as they walked, silently waiting for the first words. 

"How did your wife react when you told her you wanted to be a cop?" He couldn't believe the words had just spurted from his mouth. 

Joel just looked at him and smiled. "Woman trouble?" At the nod, he became thoughtful. "The day we met, I was in uniform. She made a comment about me being a sellout to the boss." 

Rafe's eyes widened. He had met Joel's wife and could not believe what he had just heard. "She... She didn't!" 

"Yep. She did. I told her I was a good cop, trying to help the people. Keep things from getting any worse than they already were." The memory of that confrontation brought a big smile to his face. "She told me to prove it. Eventually I did." 

"Oh." Rafe's voice was sad as he watched the expressions cross Joel's face. 

"Your new girlfriend doesn't like the idea that you're a police officer?" His voice was somber now. 

"We haven't really discussed it." Rafe could feel those eyes boring into him as he stared off into the trees. Maybe this wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, but Joel was the only one on the force he knew well enough, who had a stable marriage and who wasn't too far out his league to question. Brown had met his wife in high school and she had always encouraged him to become a police officer if that was his dream which put his partner out of reach for questioning. "She's terrified of policemen, Joel. I think a cop..." 

A heavy hand gripped his shoulder tightly. "In our precinct?" 

"No. She's not from around here. I'm not even sure. It's more of a feeling. From some things she's said and not said." He didn't know how to explain to the older man and he knew his words sounded confused. 

"Rafe, have you considered that there is another possibility? Another reason she could be scared of the police." Joel hated having to say it, but he knew it needed to be out in the open. "She could be a fugitive or an ex-con." 

"No." Rafe's voice was firm. Then it softened again. "She's never said anything. In fact, she avoids the subject. I ask her to meet me for dinner and she invites me to her place, she cooks. I got a call last night, while we were eating. She very calmly got up and left the table while I took the call. When I hung up, she was back. Said that if I had to get to back to work, she would understand. " 

"Rafe..." Joel kept his voice calm. He didn't want to worry the younger man, but if his lady friend was that jumpy about policemen, the chances were that she was trouble. With all the trouble Alex Barnes had brought the department just six months earlier, Joel didn't want a repeat. 

"I ran her prints, Joel. Ellison and Sandburg taught me that much." The choked laugh made him look up. White teeth flashed as both men grinned helplessly. Their coworkers were infamous throughout the state for their taste in criminals. "There's no record of her prints anywhere in the system." 

"How about you introduce her to me or Simon?" 

Rafe shook his head. "Not yet, Joel. She's not ready for it. I need to find a way to tell her that I'm a detective, not just a cop. I saw how she reacted when I accidentally mentioned being a cop." 

"You start with the truth, Rafe." The brown face was worried and filled with compassion. "You always start with the truth." 

"How do I get past her fear?" 

"You don't." He sighed, trying to find the right words. "You let her get past the fear. If she can't get past it... if she can't accept you as you are, you have to let her go." 

Rafe looked up. Their eyes met, hazel staring at brown. He didn't want to answer. He didn't know if he could. Joel nodded, having read the pain and the dismay. 

"It's going to be hard, no matter which way it goes. If you need to talk, I'm always available." 

The younger man nodded slowly and closed his eyes. The pain on his face was highlighted by the stream of sunshine that broke free of a fast moving cloud. Neither man noticed the sunlight or the camera focused on them. 

Major Crimes Dept., 11 November 

"Ellison, my office." Simon's voice was icy with rage. 

The sentinel frowned as he closed the case file and stood. The other detectives watched, happy that they were not the ones about to come under their captain's scrutiny, pitying Ellison. Although they were happy for themselves, they all said a silent blessing for the man quietly entering the captain's office. 

"Sir?" Jim was puzzled. He couldn't think of anything that either he or Blair had done to set their boss off. 

"The men who attacked Blair and Fortaleza skipped bail." Banks' rage was evident in the motions of the cigar in his hands. "Their lawyer was found dead in his office about an hour ago. It looks like they killed him before running." 

"I've got to go find Blair." Jim strode towards the door. 

"I already called him. He's waiting for you in his office." The words made the big detective freeze. The next words made a visible shudder run through him. "The M.E. called about the other one, the one who died in the hospital... It wasn't suicide or the fall from the balcony, it was murder." 

"No loose ends." 

"None, except for Sandburg and Fortaleza." 

Rainier University Apartments that afternoon 

"I'm not going." Fortaleza spoke quietly as she organized a stack of negatives. Each one was glanced at before being placed in a holder. 

"Fortaleza." Ellison growled her name, but the woman was paying more attention to the negative in her hand. "This is non negotiable." 

"Yes it is." She turned her gaze up to the sentinel. Her smile was infectious. "I don't think you can force me into protective custody. I haven't broken any American laws. I am staying here." 

Jim took a deep breath. He was well aware that Blair was watching them trying to hide his amusement. He softened his tone, hoping to persuade her. "I am only thinking about your safety." 

"I know that, Jim. I'm safe here. They know that there are no valuables here. So they won't come back." 

Fortaleza's soft words and even tone almost made Jim agree. Then it hit him, she was mimicking Blair's guide voice. "You little minx!" 

AJ bit off a grin as he growled at her. The sudden crash as his fist hit the table had her up and moving away from him. "I'm serious about this." 

"And so am I. I will not move to a safe house. I will not move to your loft." The even voice and the too calm heart rate told him that she was hiding something again. "I told you that yesterday and I meant it. I am not at risk here." 

"Maybe I should have a little talk with a certain friend of yours, I don't think he'd be too..." Jim didn't even have to finish the sentence. Fortaleza was pale, eyes staring at him in shock. 

"Leave him out of this." The stark fear in her voice startled the sentinel. "I'm not in any danger. 

Not right now. Please, just drop it." 

"AJ?" Blair's voice entered the fray and Jim watched as she turned towards his guide. 

"As long as I behave myself, stay in touch and tell you if I notice anything, will you please let this idea go?" Wide green eyes whirled back to the sentinel. "Please, Enqueri. I know what I'm doing." 

Jim watched her for a long moment. The stillness was gone. Fortaleza trembled, barely controlled shudders rippling her frame. Something about his words had done more than scare her, she was terrified for Rafe. "What is it?" 

"I am of the Walks Through people." She whispered. "I am sagrado. He is an unknown. No clan as far as my people are concerned. They know where I am, how long before they follow me? Even I might miss them if they are hiding." 

"S***." Jim cursed as he stalked out of the apartment. What little he knew about the Walks Through People ran through his head. they were very protective of their sagrado clan. For as small an offense as insulting a sagrado, the penalty was severe. The sagrado could and did make alliances with other tribes for them, but only with the shaman, the chief, or the sentinel of the new tribe. When a sagrado decided to settle down and stay in one place, a spouse was found by the elders of the nearest allied tribe. Usually, however the sagrado died long before that had a chance of happening. Unfortunately, AJ was very close to the age where her own people would begin arranging a match for her. 

If her people heard that she was serious about someone from another tribe, they would come hunting. Rafe didn't belong to an allied tribe. As far as the South American tribes were concerned, the young detective was a threat. With a lot of arguing it was possible that Jim could claim Rafe belonged to his tribe... they both worked for the same department of the PD. But he had never had any dealing with the Walks Through people, it was much more likely that they would say Jim and Blair were still members of the Chopec. Rafe couldn't be claimed through that manner, he wasn't Jim's guide. Jim grumbled mentally, not liking the situation. But he did understand it. Until someone else officially noticed they were a couple, both were safe from recriminations. So the Sentinel of Cascade could not acknowledge that he knew who Rafe was to her or who she was to Rafe. Neither could he allow his guide to do so. 

Major Crimes Dept., 12 November 

Wolf whistles echoed through the bullpen. Rafe colored as the other detectives circled him, inspecting his new suit. He hadn't thought he'd overdone it with the new clothes, but now he wasn't too sure. Simon Banks came out to look him over. The big man smiled. 

"I take it you took my advice." The captain spoke quietly, but his words cut through the other's comments like a hot knife through butter. 

"Yes, sir. Thank you for the name of your tailor." He smoothed the dark jacket, fingering the fine wool. 

"Who's the new man?" Megan's voice came from the hallway. Behind her stood several other women, all eyeing him appreciatively. 

Rafe turned around, enjoying the surprise on their faces. For a long time everyone in the department had teased him about being a GQ model. Somehow, even his normal suits hadn't seemed quite right when he'd made the arrangements for the coming date. So, he'd gone to the captain and asked for advice. Advice the older man had been surprised and yet happy to supply. 

Connor recovered the fastest and smiled widely at him. She looked him over from head to toe and winked, coming closer as she continued her inspection of him. 

"Oh, my stars. You do clean up very nicely, Rafe." The grin turned teasing as she walked behind him. "If you weren't so very obviously in love with Kyrie, I'd give her a run for her money." 

Then to the amusement of the rest of the Major Crimes department, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. She caught the amazed glances and asked, "What? He does look very nice all gussied up like this. It wouldn't embarrass me to take a fine dressed man out on the town." 

Simon raised his eyebrows and offered her his arm, intoning solemnly, "Shall we, my dear?" 

Brown and Taggart began sputtering, trying not to laugh. Blair grinned and stepped forward, blocking their path. He widened his eyes theatrically, raising his eyebrows and looking woeful. 

"Does this mean that if I want your attention, I have to buy a suit?" 

"Sandy, for you, I would make an exception." 

She offered him her free arm and then the three of them walked into Simon's office. Even Rafe had to laugh at their antics. 

"Hey, Rafe!" Brown called, pointing to the cell phone on Rafe's desk. It rang again. "I bet it's your lady." 

He grabbed the phone, ignoring the knowing grins around him. 

"Hello, Kyrie. Yeah, everything is still on track for tonight. I'll pick you up at the center at three o'clock." He listened to her voice, smiling as she reassured herself that this really was what he wanted to do. "Yeah, I really want to go. I've missed you too. See you in a little while." 

He looked up to see the rest of the department studiously avoiding his gaze. After a moment, Ellison's eyes met his and a big grin crossed his face. The older man stepped close to Rafe and spoke quietly, "Good luck." 

"Thanks, Jim. I think I'll need it." 

"Where are you taking her?" 

"The Bolshoi is performing in Seattle. If we leave at three, we'll get there in time for dinner before the show." 

"Sounds pretty fancy." 

"Well, she likes to dance." He grinned sheepishly. "So, I'm taking Kyrie to the ballet. I think I can survive a night of culture." 

"Okay. But if it gets out too late, you'd better stay in Seattle. Get hotel rooms or something." Ellison's face was calm, but the younger man read the warning there. Rafe had always known the older detective was protective of his friends but he'd never expected to be included in that group. "I don't want to hear that you and your friend got hurt trying to get home when you were too tired to drive." 

"That's a sure thing, Jim. I already made the arrangements." 

"Glad to hear it Rafe." He looked at the clock. "You'd better head out if you want to pick her up on time. I'll see you." 

Seattle, Washington Late Evening 

Kyrie leaned into Rafe's side. Her head rested on his shoulder as they walked down the sidewalk. He wrapped his arm around her waist, enjoying the feel of her even through the heavy coat. 

"I can't wait until Spring." He told her. 

"What happens in Spring?" She leaned her head back to look up at him. 

"I get to hold you without having our coats in the way." 

She was silent, and he could feel her withdrawing. She stopped walking and turned to face him. Rafe stopped when she did, leaning down to look at her. When he saw the tears in her eyes, his heart froze. He raised a hand and his fingers caught the silent tears that fell from her eyes. 

"What is it?" He asked, dreading the answer. 

"I'm only here until the end of the semester. I could probably stay in Cascade until the first of the year, but no longer." Her eyes were wide, made huge by the tears that pooled in them before escaping slowly down her cheeks. "I have commitments I can't break." 

He stared at her in shock. Finally, when he could move again, he pulled her into his arms, letting her bury her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, his mind racing as he rocked her. He stared off into the cold night sky, wondering what he should do, what he should say. _It wasn't fair! Damn it! He'd just found her. He couldn't lose her, not now. It was too soon._

After a long time, Rafe really wasn't sure how much time had passed, he realized that they were both shivering. He pulled her face up to look at him. Her eyes were red and swollen and from the feel of his own, he figured he must look the same. 

"Let's go back to the hotel." 

She nodded silently and let him guide her there. 

They were both shivering when they finally got up to their suite. Rafe looked down at Kyrie and frowned to himself. Her cheeks had gotten chapped where her tears had left salty tracks. The resulting red lines looked painful. 

"Looks like I didn't do that good of a job taking care of you." He muttered as he began stripping coat and gloves from her. "Why don't you go take a hot shower and get warm? Once you're feeling better we need to talk." 

"No." Her voice was firm. "I don't want to leave you. Not right now." 

"Kyrie." He sighed, seeing the determined look on her face. Somehow, even though they'd never had a disagreement, he knew she could be stubborn to a fault. He shrugged out of his own coat and suit jacket. "Come here, love." 

Instantly she was in his arms, her arms wrapped around his waist. They stood like that for several minutes before he noticed that she was still shivering. Reluctantly he let her go. 

"Please, go shower. I'll be right here, waiting for you." 

She looked up at him and shook her head. "You need a shower too. We're both half frozen." 

"We'll meet back here in a half hour, okay?" 

She nodded wearily. 

Rafe took a fast shower, dressed in dry clothes and returned through the connecting doors to 

Kyrie's room. She was curled up against the headboard of the bed, sipping a cup of tea. She smiled at his expression. 

"Would you like some coffee?" She asked quietly. "It just arrived." 

He took the cup she offered and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, watching her watch him. Finally she looked away. He drank, finding the coffee perfect, one cream, no sugar, just the way he liked it. When had she learned his preferences? Then again when had he learned that she always drank earl gray or Darjeeling when they had serious talks and chamomile before bed? 

"Are you mad at me?" 

"Why do you think I'm angry?" 

"This is the first time since we met that you haven't been touching me every moment we're together." Her voice was soft and grew softer. 

He moved closer to her. His moves were slow as he took the cup away from her and picked her up. Cradling her in his arms, he sat down leaning back against the headboard. He settled her comfortably across his lap and tucked her in with the blanket before returning the tea to her. He watched her face as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. 

"Is that better?" 

"Much better. When you touch me, it feels like everything is going to turn out all right." She snuggled against him, careful not to spill her tea. 

"Why didn't you tell me you were only here temporarily?" Rafe's voice was strained. 

"I thought I could just be your friend and everything would be fine when I left again." She watched his eyes darken as the words sank in. 

"You've done this before?" His voice reflected his hurt. 

"Not this. I'm used to making friends and leaving them behind. Then I met you and nothing was the same." Kyrie looked away and then met his eyes. "I never have stayed in any one place for long. It has always been necessary to move from place to place. We've never stayed anywhere longer than about six weeks." 

"You could always stay here. Apply for a position at the university. A permanent one." There was a trace of hope in his voice. 

"Bri, I don't have a position with them now. I'm covering for someone who is in the hospital." Her voice was sad. Deep in her eyes was a wary tension as if she was hiding something, something that would change everything. As he watched, the tension disappeared, hidden by tears she refused to release. "I have absolutely no academic credentials. I've never gone to college. I have no right to teach, not permanently." 

"Then how did you get the job?" The detective in Rafe was raising his head. There were too many questions and not enough information for him to understand what was happening. And he badly wanted to understand. 

"Luck, maybe fate. I was asked to cover for someone to whom I owed a favor. Once Zel gets back here, which will be late December, I have no place to stay, no job, nothing concrete. Not until January." She licked her lips and tried not to let him know how much this talk was hurting her... She couldn't tell him everything, so she'd have to tell him enough to get him off track. 

"Where will you go?" 

"Back to South America for about three months... after that? I'm not sure. Maybe I'll just wander the country. I'll figure something out. I always do." Tears clouded her eyes again and she looked away. 

"No, we'll figure this out. Unless I'm wrong and there is no we, no us." Rafe tilted her head back so he could look at her, watch the emotions she was trying so hard to hide from him. "Have you ever felt like this before?" 

"I've never felt like I'd leave the best of me behind before." She didn't object when he took away the teacup and placed it on the night stand. She met his kiss halfway. He tasted of coffee and of cream and of something she identified as uniquely Rafe. She leaned into him, lightly tasting his mouth as he tasted hers. *I didn't think I'd fall in love when I came to Cascade.* 

"You love me?" Rafe smiled sadly at her, but his eyes danced, lit up by her words. "Well, that's good, because I'm pretty sure I love you too." 

She looked up at him, had she really said that? She hadn't meant to say those words aloud, but she couldn't take them back. Not when they were the truth. Instead, she asked, "What do we do now?" 

He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. Then he sat back and pulled her tightly to his chest, his hands rubbing her arms. He didn't want to start anything that they would regret later, so he closed his eyes and tightened his control over himself. Satisfied, he tucked her head under his chin. "We take it one day at a time. And we pray that sometime in the next four weeks we find a way to make it all work." 

She relaxed against him. Somehow, the thought of the two of them working together on their problem reassured her. Rafe couldn't help her with most of her fears, but he could handle this one. So she would let him. As she relaxed, he did too. When the sun rose, they were spooned together, his arms still holding her tightly to his chest. 

Major Crimes Dept. , 13 November, early afternoon 

Rafe grinned as he stretched behind his desk. The satisfied grin and tired but contented look on his face caused raised eyebrows. He yawned and looked at the file on his desk. Brown placed a large cup of coffee in front of him. 

"Looks like you need this more than I do, Rafe." The big man commented quietly. 

At his words, Joel Taggart stepped over and looked down at the seated detective. He nodded to his friend. "Yeah, I think you're right. Looks like Rafe didn't get much sleep while in Seattle. In fact, I hear he hasn't been getting much sleep any night in the past two weeks. Every time I turn around, I hear that Rafe and his mysterious lady have been sighted late at night somewhere." 

"Rhonda said she'd seen him out at the country club dance with a pretty lady. Talked about how the two of them danced every single dance last Saturday. And Rafe managed to avoid introducing the poor thing to anyone who knew him. Almost as if he were trying to hide her from us." Brown teased, watching for the other man's reaction. "So when are you going to bring Kyrie in and introduce her around? Let her meet the crew?" 

"Not until she's firmly mine, H. There's no way I'm letting one of you jokers latch onto her. Kyrie is special." The young detective blushed at the knowing grins that quickly decorated the other men's faces. 

"Don't want any competition?" H hooted with laughter at the quick shake of his partner's head. 

"Did you at least bring in a picture of her?" 

"No, Joel. I asked that last week and he told me he didn't want us to hunt her down and scare her off." Brown laughed. "Or worse, maybe we would hunt her down and try to steal her away from him." 

"Don't even go there, H." Rafe's easy going manner turned icy at the mere thought. Instantly the other man raised his hands in surrender. He had not intended to cause the younger man to get defensive. If he had known he was that serious about this girl, they wouldn't have teased him. He looked over at Joel for help. 

Taggart spoke quickly but sincerely. "Whoa, Rafe. Henri was just joking. He's not serious. From our talk Monday, I didn't realize that things had gotten that serious already." 

"It's okay, Joel." Rafe apologized. He knew that his friends would not seriously try to get at Kyrie. He sighed. "It's just hard, you know what I mean?" 

Joel sat on the edge of his desk. "Exactly how long have you known her?" 

"Not long enough but it seems like forever." At the older man's grunt , he answered quietly. 

"About four weeks." 

"You're serious about her already? That's a bit fast, Rafe." The older man sounded worried. When they had spoken on Monday, Rafe hadn't seemed quite so. . . vehement. Now it was as if he was almost defensive. 

Something had changed since their talk. 

"I know, but she's different, Joel. She's like no one I've ever met before. She has a ... I guess you'd call it a gentleness, an innocence about her that is very special." Confused hazel eyes looked up at the man sitting on his desk. 

"Where did you meet her?" 

"At the university. She teaches photography there." 

"Sounds like she's got a stable career then. So how serious are you?" 

Rafe quietly shook his head, not really able to answer. They were on dangerous ground here. How could he tell them that he was thinking of leaving Cascade when she did? That she made him feel whole? That he would do anything to protect her? He tried to frame the words, to explain his feelings, but nothing came out. 

With a small sigh, Taggart turned to Brown. "He's a goner, Henri. We're losing a poker partner. Whenever a woman hits a man so hard he can't tell his friends about her, it's too late for him." 

Pale blue eyes appeared over Brown's shoulder and looked down at the two seated detectives. 

"What's this about losing a poker partner? Is someone leaving?" 

"Nope. Rafe here is contemplating his relationship." Joel broke the news as if it were the most dire of information. He schooled his face into a solemn, sad expression. His eyes were downcast and his voice low, the words carefully spaced to conjure sad, quiet emotions. "Not only has he been seen with her at every dance Rhonda has attended, but he's been taking her to Seattle, missing poker games, in short, he's becoming wrapped around her little fingers." 

Rafe looked up in surprise at the amused chuckles that surrounded him. Sometime during the conversation, most of the Major Crimes unit had joined the circle, and all of them were listening to Joel. Joel just nodded and watched the younger man. 

"Hey, guys, what's with the huddle?" Blair's voice cut through the quiet silence as the men looked at their embarrassed colleague. They didn't even notice as they made an open path for him to 

move to the front of the group. "Hey, Rafe. So what's the problem?" 

"Rafe is, Hairboy." Henri dead panned solemnly. "He's talking about his relationship with Kyrie." 

"Joel here says we're losing a poker player, so it must be serious." Jim's voice was sad. 

"Maybe she plays poker. That means more money to win!" Megan's voice was soft as she peered down at the detective in question. 

Blair bounced happily, a large smile spreading across his face. He reached out and clapped a hand on Rafe's shoulder. "When do we get to meet her?" 

"Traitor!" Jim growled, cuffing the younger man playfully. 

"Hey, from the looks on all the faces around here, I'd say this is very serious." Blair picked up the anxious look on the other man face and understood. He caught the mixed apprehension and ecstasy that flickered in Rafe's eyes. It hit the anthropologist suddenly, the young detective was seriously in love with the mysterious Kyrie everyone had been wondering about. The smile on his face grew even larger. "Congratulations, man! She must be pretty special." 

"Thanks, Blair." Rafe grimaced as the other detectives chuckled again. 

"Would anyone care to explain this?" The gruff voice of the unit captain made them look up. Simon stood, arms crossed in the doorway to his office. The slight tilt of his lips as he kept himself from smiling was the only clue that he wasn't really irritated by the scene in the bullpen. "Now, I know all of you have work to be done, so get to it. Rafe, I'm glad you made it back from Seattle without getting caught in that accident on the freeway." 

With those quiet words, the big man turned back to his office. Behind him detectives returned to their work, filling out the myriad of forms that always seemed to multiply on their desks. Rafe smiled to himself as he watched the circle of officers break up. 

"Glad to hear everything is working out. You deserve someone like her. And she deserves someone like you." Ellison spoke softly. Catching Rafe's eye he nodded with a slight smile before reaching out to grab Sandburg's arm. Rafe stared in shock as Jim led his partner away. 

"Come on, Chief. There are some forms with your name on them over here." 

An hour later, Simon came out of his office, grim faced. "Listen up, people. We have reports of a mass murder at the old foundry just outside of the city limits. County has requested our aid. I want everyone to drop what they're doing and head out." 

Rainier University Apartments, late afternoon. 

AJ stared at the TV, panic in her eyes. The reporter continued, "So far neither the Cascade police nor the county sheriffs are commenting on the rumors about a mass suicide or a mass grave site. From the number of officers and the huge mobilization of forces, at least some of the rumors must be true. At last count over 20 body bags have been removed from the foundry." 

Her eyes were focused on a set of symbols painted on the wall outside the foundry. Symbols that shouldn't be this far north. Not in her life time anyway. She grabbed her phone and dialed from memory, ignoring the faint clicking that came over the line. When the secretary answered, she spoke swiftly, "Sarah, it's me. I need to talk to Ese or Rage." 

"They're out of the office, Miss." Sarah's voice was startled. Before she could say anything else, AJ hung up the phone. She was on her own, at least for now. Grabbing her laptop, she hooked it into the Internet. She had to get to her files and fast. She stopped, a faint smile gracing her lips. She didn't need her files, she needed someone else's files. She quickly picked up the phone again. 

"Mr. Kelso? This is Silence. Authentication code: delta sigma one niner tango epsilon. Your Cascade police have stumbled into something nasty. They are going to need your help." 

357 Prospect Ave. Apt # 307, 7 p.m. 

"Sandburg, Ellison, this is Kelso, I know the two of you are very busy, but it's urgent. Call me or come by my place no matter what time it is." Blair looked over at Jim as the message played. The sentinel frowned at him. At the gesture he replayed the message, watching as the other man concentrated his hearing. 

"Sounds important, Chief. His heart rate's up and he's working as he talks." Another frown. "He had the news on, sounds like Haas' report on the foundry. Let's go see the man." 

"Jim?" Blair caught his jacket as the taller man tossed it to him. It had been a hard day. The final count had been 57 bodies, all carefully displayed in the foundry. He hadn't been the only one there who had become ill as they dealt with the scene. "Why don't we call him and tell him we'll be by in the morning." 

'Shh." Jim hissed as he dialed on his cell phone. Before Blair could make another comment, he opened the door and stepped out of the loft. "Kelso? Yeah, it's me. Okay, what's the address? We'll be there in a few minutes." 

Jack Kelso's house, Cascade, WA. 

Jack Kelso met them at the door. "Thanks for coming on such short notice." 

"What's up?" Blair asked, his eyes darting around Kelso's house curiously. Although he considered himself the ex-agent's friend, he had never been there before. 

"It's about the foundry..." Kelso spoke quietly, watching them. "I've seen this before and it's going to get worse." 

"Worse?" Jim fought to keep his voice calm. 

"About twelve years ago I was involved with a CIA intelligence gathering mission in the Yucatan. We were trying to find the leader of a group called the Children of the Sun. The markings on wall of the foundry look like the ones I saw then." Kelso pulled out a sheaf of notes and handed them over to Jim. "The end total was close to 300 bodies. The group vanished and has reappeared at least once since then. More than one entire task force has disappeared hunting them." 

"Why haven't I heard about them?" Blair asked, peering at the hand written notes Jim was looking at. "I mean, I've heard about a lot of cults in that area, but not the Children of the Sun." 

"All of the groups involved agreed to hush-up the incident. The whole debacle is still classified." At those words Jim's eyes shot over to meet the ex-agent's. "After seeing the symbols on the wall in that news story, I dug out my old notes to help you. But even I can't get anything else." 

The muscle in the sentinel's jaw began to twitch. "So who do I talk to?" He ground out between clenched teeth. 

"Dr. Abraham Zelinski." Kelso didn't miss the look or the strangled gasp from Blair. "I already tried to get information on him for you, but..." 

"He's missing." Jim cut him off. 

"Yes, that's what my sources say. Actually, as of last week, he is listed as presumed dead." Kelso watched the expression that crossed their faces. His curiosity piqued, he asked, "You knew him?" 

"Friend of a friend." Jim answered. 

"Have you met AJ Fortaleza?" Blair asked. "She worked with him for several years." 

"Fortaleza? I've heard about her. She's the visiting professor from South America, the one with the crossover photography-anthropology classes?" 

"Yeah, that's her." Blair began. 

"How high is the clearance on this stuff?" Jim interrupted. "If it will cause a problem, I'll return it to you in the morning." 

"Keep it. Those are my private notes that I wrote up after the fact. No names because I didn't know any, but all the information I could remember. Everything I thought might come in handy if they ever showed up again." Kelso looked over at his computer, a pensive look crossing his face. 

"I'll look around, see if I can find anything else for you." 

Blair spoke softly. "Are you sure? I mean, who can we show this too without getting you in trouble?" 

"It's what you would find if you went to Merida and read the newspaper articles. " Kelso reassured him. "Nothing illegal, no broken oaths. You can use it with a clean conscience. Use it to catch the sob's." 

"We will." Jim's voice cut through Blair's thanks. 

***** 

Rainier University Apartments, 9 p.m. 

"Rafe?" AJ took one look him and drew the unresisting man into her apartment. "I wasn't expecting you tonight. What happened?" 

"I'm sorry, Kyrie. I had a really bad day at work and ..." He began, pulling away. "I shouldn't burden you with it. It might be best if..." 

"No. You don't need to be alone right now." AJ gently stripped Rafe of his coat and tie. From the haunted look in his eyes she knew what the problem was and she knew how to handle it. "Sit down, I'll get you some tea." 

"I don't want any tea. I just want to hold you." Rafe's voice was soft and broken as his eyes reflected the pain of things he had seen. 

Wordlessly, AJ pulled him into her arms and sank onto the couch. She closed her eyes as his arms wrapped around her, seeking comfort. Rafe's shudders rocked her and she closed her eyes, vowing silently to do everything in her power to stop the sacrifices. Under her breath, she crooned softly, chanting a slow, soothing prayer. It took much longer than she'd expected for him to slide into an exhausted sleep. Once she was sure he was resting she stood. She had a lot of work to do. She had to break into a guarded crime scene and see if she could get any information on the new whereabouts of the Cult. 

14 November, Major Crimes Department, early am. 

"Have any of you heard from Rafe since yesterday?" Brown's quiet question made the other detectives look up from Kelso's notes. One by one they shook their heads. "He isn't answering his cell phone. I checked his apartment on the way in, but it doesn't look like he ever got home last night." 

"Give me a minute, I have an idea." Ellison answered. He stood and went over to his desk, opening a drawer to pull out an address book. After flipping through the pages, he quickly dialed a number from memory. He hated decieving his friends, but in this case it was necessary. Then, closing the book he returned it to the drawer. "Kyrie? Is Rafe there?" 

"Yes." Her voice was a mere whisper of sound. "Does this mean I need to wake him?" 

"Yeah. I need to talk to him, please." Jim kept his voice even. He didn't want to think beyond this moment. He really didn't want to know. "We'll talk about it later, okay?" He barely heard her acknowledgement before the phone was placed on a table. He listened as bare feet paced away from the phone and AJ began speaking quietly in another room. 

The silence from the bullpen made the sentinel look up, breaking his concentration away from the soft conversation on the phone. Everyone, from Simon to Rhonda was staring at him in amazement. As he waited patiently, he saw Joel start grinning and Blair frown. The phone was handed to a voice that was not quite Rafe's. At least, not the Rafe he was used to hearing. It sounded like the younger detective was still sound asleep. 

"'Lo?" The voice croaked. 

"You don't sound too good. Are you coming in today?" 

"What time is it?" Jim heard AJ whisper an answer to that question. "Oh, shit. Tell Simon I'll be in soon." 

Behind Rafe, he could hear AJ arguing. Then the phone was taken away from the young man. "Jim? I don't think he'll be there for at least an hour. He will eat before he heads home and gets changed." 

"Okay. The station'll still be here. Tell him to take it easy. The roads are icy this morning." Jim replied before hanging up the phone. Then he looked up at the eyes watching him. "Rafe's fine. He overslept. He'll be here in about an hour. Maybe a little later." 

"How long have you known Rafe's girlfriend?" Blair asked calmly. 

"A while." Jim smirked at the group. "Shouldn't we get back to work?" 

"And you weren't going to tell us?" Brown took up the questioning. 

"No." The Sentinel picked up a drawing Kelso had included with the notes. "So, have you ever seen this kind of arrangement before, Chief?" 

Blair glanced at the drawing, still pondering the idea that Jim knew who Kyrie was. "So, what's she like?" 

"Not your type, Sandburg." Was the only answer he got. Blair looked over at Joel and Simon, silently passing the floor to them. 

"What aren't you telling us, Jim?" Joel's grin spread, as he watched the detective squirm. "Is she one of your ex-girlfriends? Or did you hunt her down to make sure you could entrust Rafe to her?" 

The others glanced at each other. It hadn't occurred to them to check out Rafe's lady. They all knew with the reputation the department had earned courtesy of Ellison and Sandburg, it was something they should have thought about doing. 

"She's a friend, not an old girlfriend. Yes, I checked her out, thoroughly. She's safe. No, I'm not giving you any more information. They're both adults. They want to keep it private, that's their choice." Jim glared at them. He didn't like revealing this much and it showed. 

Rainier University Apartments. 

"You know Jim Ellison?" Rafe's voice was unsteady, as he hung up the phone. 

She nodded, looking away from the accusation in his eyes. This was not the right time but she couldn't hide from the truth. None of her people could. "I knew him in another world." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rafe watched her pace. He was confused, angry. If Kyrie knew Ellison, she knew another police officer. Then why was she so touchy about his job. "What is going on?" 

"I learned of Captain James Ellison while I was in South America." Kyrie sighed, turning to the window and staring out of it. Her words were soft, forcing Rafe to come closer so he could hear them. "To say that we keep running into each other is an understatement. He was adopted by the Chopec, made a part of Incacha's family. I was adopted by the Chopec, also made a part of Incacha's family. According to the ways of the people, he is my older brother. I am his younger sister." 

"Why so secretive?" Rafe gently turned her around, wanting to read her eyes as she spoke. 

"I am ..." She hesitated. Finally with an apologetic shrug, she continued, "I am an amaru for the tribe. A shaman. That makes most people uncomfortable. It also makes it very hard for me to be anything but a shaman. For once, I had a chance to be me... not someone's expectations. I took it." 

"Are you ever going to tell me your real name? I suspect I know what it probably is, but I want you to tell me." Rafe watched her carefully as he digested the information she had just given him. 

"I am Kyrie Eleason Alessandre Jacobo Fortaleza y Trujillo. I am amaru to the Walks Through Peoples. I have been adopted through alliance by another twenty tribes. " Her eyes were bright as she whispered the words, suspiciously so. She bit her lip before continuing. "I have other names. Names that by law I cannot tell you. I'm sorry, Rafe." 

"I need to think about this." Rafe's voice was soft, thoughtful. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it. "I'll call you later." 

Kyrie moved swiftly, darting to the book shelves. She grabbed something and returned to Rafe's side. "No matter what you decide, about me," her voice caught. She held out her hand, showing him a coiled necklace. Blue and green stones, each carved with different symbols were threaded on a slim leather thong. The patterns and symbols marked him as hers in a way that she had no right to claim, but it was the only way she could protect him. If he accepted the amulets she would know he was safe, for now. "Please wear this. At least until after the new year. It's for protection against the coming winds." 

Rafe started to refuse but froze. There was something about the way she offered it, as if expecting to be slapped down. Her hand was trembling slightly but her expression was firm. He took the necklace and placed it over his head, automatically sliding it under his shirt. "I have to go." 

She didn't say anything, silently escorting him to the door. 

#### 


	10. Calm before the Storm

Storm Chapter 9 The Calm Before the Storm 

Cascade National Park, Saturday, 14 November, late evening. 

AJ stared at the moonlit park, eyes focusing beyond what was visible. Dressed entirely in black, from her boots to the cap on her head, she blended in to the shadows. She hadn't quite decided what it was about this location that bothered her. Maybe it was just the problems she was having, maybe that was affecting her ability to work. That had to be it. Grimly, she began shooting pictures of the area; maybe studying them later would give her the answer. She glared impatiently at the silent trees. A buzz at her side made her fingers pause. 

"Yes?" She spoke into the phone curtly, impatient with the interruption. With skilled hands, she connected the hands free headset to the cell phone and turned it on. 

"Kyrie? Where are you?" The sound of Rafe's voice, even slightly muted as it was over the connection brought a smile to her lips. "I tried your apartment but you're not there. We need to talk." 

"Rafe! Aloa!" The smile bubbled through her and into her words. AJ clipped the cell phone into a case and attached it to her belt. Once her hands were free, she went back to taking pictures. "I didn't expect you to call tonight." 

"I wanted to talk to you. To try and work this mess out. Where are you?" 

"I'm setting up some great shots of the city." AJ whispered softly into the microphone. She swiftly photographed the view of Cascade and the waning moon. Now that she was talking to Rafe, everything seemed much better, the view lighter, cheerier. From here, the entire city was laid out like a jeweled broach, lights flaring brightly against the backdrop of the harbor and the night sky. The way the mountains curled down around the city to become cliffs at the sea made it seem as if the city was being cradled in loving arms. She smiled at her own whimsy. "Cascade has some beautiful views." 

"Views?" Rafe sounded puzzled. "Kyrie? Where exactly are you?" 

She paused, watching a young man pull up in a nearby parking lot. Instinctively, AJ grabbed her camera bag and backed into the trees. As several more cars pulled up she quickly darted further into the shadows. "North of the university. It's a pretty nice park, quiet. Beautiful view of the city and the mountains. I've been here most of the day." 

"Which park, Kyrie?" His voice became harsh. 

"I think the sign said North View Park." 

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." Rafe's voice was rough, tightly controlled worry. 

Moving with the practiced ease she had gained in South American jungles, AJ scaled a tree, staying out of sight of the group of young men who were dispersing into the trees. Tightening the straps of her camera bag, she dove from one tree to another. Only her quiet grunt of effort betrayed her movement. 

"Kyrie?" Rafe growled over the headset. 

"Sh. I'm busy right now." She whispered under her breath. Gingerly she removed her camera bag, strapping it to the tree. With near silent movements she unzipped a pocket and extracted a different camera. Quickly changing the film, she brought it up and around, focusing on the men standing under the trees near her. She began snapping pictures, barely moving except to shift the focus from one young man to another. For a long time, she was silent, watching them and listening to the quiet curses coming over the phone line. Finally she sighed, "Sorry about that." 

"What is going on?" The young detective sounded so completely out of sorts that she had to smile. "Do you know exactly how dangerous that park is after dark? I want you to find a safe spot and wait for me to pick you up." 

"Rafe, I'm fine. I'm also about 15 feet from the ground." AJ's amusement was obvious in her quietly spoken words. "No one will notice me up here. Especially if I stay quiet." 

"That park is gang territory at night." 

"Mmm-hmm." She agreed as she changed her film. "The boys in the red jackets and bandannas." 

"Where are they?" In the background, behind Rafe's voice, she could suddenly hear a siren. 

"Rafe? What are you doing?" She watched the gang members, keeping most of her attention on them. Her lip curled in disgust as she photographed the drug transaction between them and their supplier. "They've picked up some drugs, I think, and are heading back to their cars." 

"Kyrie, don't let them see you. They'll kill you rather than risk jail time." 

"They just climbed into their cars and are pulling away." AJ fiddled with the lens, trying to get a good picture of the cars. 

"I'm about 8 minutes from you. Stay put!" 

The young woman raised her eyebrows at the order. She shrugged, settling herself more comfortably into the crook of the tree branch. Thanks to years of working with and around warriors, she recognized that tone. She would just wait out the storm of his worry and the sun would shine again. 

#### 

Rafe pulled into an empty parking lot. He had turned off the lights and siren a little over a mile away to keep from letting the gang members know he was a cop, but now he wasn't too sure if it had been a good idea. Nothing moved that he could see. He tightened his grip on the cell phone. "Kyrie, where are you?" 

"I'm on my way, querido." Her voice was cheerful through the phone. "I got some great pictures."  


Rafe stared into the park, his fury and his concern fighting for dominance. After a long wait, at least it seemed long to him, Kyrie appeared. At first he wasn't sure he saw her. The shadows seemed to move with her as she stepped out of the trees. She paused, turning back toward the forest, head moving as she scanned the quiet grove. Impatiently, he strode over to meet her. 

"What..." Rafe stuttered to a stop as her eyebrows rose. "Don't you know how dangerous it is for a woman to be out here after dark?" 

"I'm fine, Rafe. They never saw me." She shook her head, shifting her camera bag uncomfortably. "Besides, I can take care of myself." 

Rafe murmured a curse and pulled her close. She let him tuck her under his chin, her arms wrapping around him. Immediately the cold hollow in his chest that had haunted him since their argument that morning vanished. He let himself revel in the moment. It was as if she poured warmth into his soul. 

After a long moment, he whispered, "Do you need any more pictures?" 

Kyrie pulled back, looking up at him thoughtfully. "I can always come back later for more." 

"I can..." 

"No, querido. You've put in a long day and so have I. You look worn out." She shifted, taking a step away from him. "I think it's time for me to head home." 

Rafe sighed. "I'm not trying to stop you from your work -- it's just not safe out here at night. How did you get out here, anyway?" 

"I walked." She smiled at his shocked look. "It's all right, Rafe. I'll head home, now." 

"Damn it, woman!" Rafe growled at her. "I don't believe the stuff you try to pull! I'll give you a ride home.' 

"I'll be fine, Rafe." AJ's amusement vanished at his worried expression. "I'm always fine." 

He let his hand on her arm tighten, just enough to hold her in place. "I worry about you... more than I want to." 

"I... " She bowed her head, refusing to meet his eyes. She really didn't want to go into this again, at least not now and not here. "I understand." 

"Do you, really?" He asked. He had to find a way to explain to her, a way to make her understand what he was feeling. "I don't think so. I still have a lot of questions and things to work through." 

"You don't like surprises, do you?" she asked quietly. At his negative headshake, she fought a sad smile. She had been afraid of that. Making a quick decision, she pulled out a roll of film and handed it to him. "It's the boys in the red bandannas." 

"How close did you get to them?" The burst of fear and anger that crossed his expressive face was both more and less than she expected. 

"I didn't go near them. I took telephoto pictures." 

"Why do I have a feeling there is more to all of this that I don't know?" He whispered into the night air. 

"Rafe... I'm a photographer. It's part of my life." She looked away again. Was he asking for the truth? Was he asking for the whole story... with all of its ugly, classified parts? This had to be the reason Zel always told her to avoid becoming personally involved while working. It hurt, no matter which way she looked at it. "Part of who I am." 

"I understand that. I can handle that part of your life." He answered her quietly. "I'm worried about the stuff I'm finding out now. The stuff you didn't tell me." 

"Why do you think I never asked you about your past? You've told me all about your life since arriving in the United States. Your accent is South African. Whatever happened there still hurts you. I didn't pry into it, because it felt wrong." She pulled away from Rafe's hand, breaking all contact between them. "You have things you would rather not discuss. I have some too. Can you handle me being a shaman? Can you accept that among my people I am a living link between tribes, kin to Ellison and Sandburg? That the tribes have the right to call me home at any time?" She watched him, eyes focusing on and through him. At his wince, he saw her tense. Kyrie's green and silver eyes turned sad. She leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his cheek. "Good-bye Rafe." 

Rafe reacted instinctively. He grabbed her arm, pulling her close. There was no way he was letting her get away. Not now. Maybe not ever. "That is not an option, Kyrie. We need to talk... about our pasts, our present, and the future." 

She began to protest, but he shook his head. "Not here. Let's go."  


Kyrie was silent as he hustled her into his car. 

#### 

852 Prospect Ave, Apt 307 

"So where is she?" Blair paced from his room to the telephone, glaring at it, as if that would make it ring. 

"Calm down, Chief." Jim set the slide of his pistol down. Each piece of his service weapon was laid out in a very precise pattern on the kitchen table as he clean it. "She'll call." 

"She's ignored all of my messages. She wasn't in today. She didn't leave a note." Blair growled out his list of complaints again. "She's not answering the cell phone you gave her." 

"I know." The sentinel was not about to tell his guide that he was beginning to worry too. He also neglected to say that he too had left messages on AJ's answering machine. He had even gone so far as to visit her apartment, looking for signs of trouble. 

Blair picked up the phone and began to dial. 

"Let me call a friend's place. He might know where she is." Jim's words knocked Blair off his stride. 

"You know who her boyfriend is?" Blair asked quietly. "Is there anyone who you don't know?" 

"The president." The quietly spoken words made the younger man turn just to see if he was being teased. He shook his head with a smile as he handed the phone over to his sentinel. 

#### 

"Do you trust me?" 

AJ looked over at Rafe. The light from the street lamps made his face unusually pale. He glanced over at her, dividing his attention between her and the road. She didn't even have to think about her answer. "Yes." 

Rafe nodded and quickly dialed a number on his cell phone. "H? Look I'm not going to make it to your mom's for dinner tomorrow. I'm not going to be answering the main phone for the rest of the weekend. Personal reasons. Nah, I'll be okay. I just have some things to take care of. I know, but we have to wait for a response from the Feds on that one. They won't get back to us until Monday at the earliest. I'll have my cell with me. Yes, it's that important. Right, I'll talk to you later." 

AJ leaned against the cool glass of the car window, watching Rafe talk to his partner. She carefully focused only on him, ignoring the distraction of his voice and that faint sound of his friend's voice. The play of light as it flickered across his face was entrancing to her tired mind. For a moment the scene around him changed and she saw him in a cavern, surrounded by flames, and his face was coated with a tracery of bloody symbols. 

"Kyrie? Are you okay?" Rafe's hand shook her, his voice echoing the worry in his eyes. 

"Yes. Just tired." She smiled at him, forcing herself back to full awareness. Had she lost time again? Not good! She was too tired to fight off visions much less handle the coming confrontation and her tea was rapidly losing its effectiveness. 

"Do you need to tell anyone that we're not going to be around for a little while?" Rafe's voice caught her attention again. 

AJ nodded and activated her cell phone, clicking the headset back into position. A moment later the phone on the other end was answered. "Blair? I won't be available tomorrow. Can you handle the set up at the museum for me?" 

"AJ! You're all right!" The worried sound of his voice made her frown. She carefully focused all of her attention onto the phone. "Why didn't you answer your messages? Or leave us a note? Where are you?" Blair's voice broke off abruptly as Jim took the phone away from him. 

"You okay, kitten?" The sentinel's voice was soft but very dangerous sounding. She shivered. 

"Yes. I'm fine." AJ closed her eyes, knowing she was in trouble. The very lack of expression in Jim's voice warned her that she was close to having him hunt her down. "I didn't expect either of you to worry." 

"Wrong answer, kid. You know us better than that. Is that Brian I hear behind you?" Jim's words were still soft. 

"Yes." No point in lying to him and she knew it. 

"You going of your own choice?" 

"Yes, Enqueri. My choice." 

"Why do you sound nervous?" This time his words had a bite to them. 

"Enqueri! I'm fine. Everything is okay." She protested. "I'm going to be out of contact for a little while and don't want you worrying." 

"Put him on the phone." Jim's voice cut through her words like an icy wind. She hesitated and his voice lowered as he growled, "Now." 

  
Wordlessly she switched over to the cell phone and handed it to Rafe. He raised his eyebrow at her but accepted it. Using every bit of energy she could spare from holding back the nightmarish visions that danced in the back of her brain, AJ focused on Jim's voice. 

"Brian? I want you to take very good care of my little sister." Ellison's voice was about as warm as the winds blowing through Cascade that night. 

"How long have you known?" Rafe asked, voice tight as he considered the situation. 

"I guessed about two weeks ago, but the minx wouldn't confirm it until I called this morning." Jim's voice lost a little of its icy tone. "She's real good at keeping secrets, even when they aren't needed." 

"We'll call you tomorrow." Rafe kept his voice even. He should have guessed there was a lot that Kyrie, or AJ was holding back. He'd suspected some of it, but the idea that she was related to Ellison still hadn't quite settled in his mind. "I have a feeling we probably need to talk." 

"You know how to reach us," Jim answered before disconnecting the phone. 

Maritime Condominiums, 11pm. 

"Make yourself at home." Rafe spoke almost brusquely, as he opened the door to his condo and ushered Kyrie inside. 

She was silent as she slipped past him. The cool blues and light grays of the room were soothing and quiet. She glanced around, her eyes skimming the room before locking on a large photograph. Almost as if compelled, she walked over to it. Rich green and blue waves dashed themselves into a rocky coastline, framed by the doorway of a small plane. The crisp edge of the wing trailed downward as if a pointing out the remains of an ancient lighthouse. The waves broke over the ancient stones that fortified a pier still jutting out from the collapsed remains. Just behind the breaking waves, protected by both the old rock wall and a narrow, curving finger of land, a dark blue inlet of water shone like a jewel. It didn't take much imagination for her to feel the wind that encouraged the waves, smell the rich salt air, and feel the fine mist that ascended to where the airplane watched the waves batter at the land. She fought a grimace at when she saw the signature kAj on the lower left corner. It was one of her personal photographs, one that she had signed. 

"So you were the one who bought it." She whispered turning to face him. She remembered when that picture had been taken over the coast of South Africa. 

"I grew up near there, we spent our vacations in Langebaan." Rafe answered quietly. Watching her, he stripped off his coat and turned to put it away. "Let me hang up your coat." 

Kyrie set her camera bag down and walked over to Rafe in time to see him lock his pistol in a small lock box and place it on a shelf. 

"You always keep that with you?" Her eyes were curious, as she turned to him. 

"Only when I'm on duty or on call. Here, we won't need it. Or do you think we will?" Rafe was only half joking. He knew how she felt about cops, but the locking up the pistol seemed to make her uneasy. He watched as the silver-green eyes narrowed and then she looked away. 

"No. You won't need it, not against me." There was something almost broken about her voice as she turned back to the living room. "I'd never do anything that would threaten you if I could help it. 

"I'm getting a beer, would you like one?" 

"No, thank you." The formal words belied the way she prowled the room, studying the books and other objects on his shelves. 

"I can make you some tea," He said, as he pulled a beer from the refrigerator. 

The silence from the other room made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Holding the beer in one hand, Rafe cautiously turned the corner to the living room. Kyrie was standing by the window, holding a picture frame in her hands as she stared at the picture inside it. He didn't have to see the picture to know which one it was. He'd forgotten it was in the living room and it had never occurred to him that she would see it. 

She looked up at him; eyes puzzled then glanced back down at it. "You were very young." 

"Sixteen." He answered before taking a sip of the beer and moving to stand beside her. He looked at the picture. He had forgotten how much had changed since then, but one thing hadn't... it still hurt. 

Dark, hand carved wood framed his wedding picture, a gift from his best man. He stood, smiling happily beside a beautiful girl dressed in white. Above them was a simple banner in Afrikaans proclaiming them newlyweds. Beside him, his mother and father stood with tense smiles on their faces. He closed his eyes against the bitter memory of how the day had ended. 

"Rafe?" Kyrie's soft voice made him look at her. "These are your parents?" 

"Yes. My mother and father." He took another quick sip of his beer and answered the unspoken question. "My wife, Angela." 

"What happened?" 

"There was a problem at the jeweler, so our rings weren't ready. After the ceremony, I went to get them." Rafe's voice became rough as he remembered that day. "The house was in flames when I got back. The gas... they didn't have a chance. I came to America after that." He'd left a lot out... but he was under oath not to say more. "It's part of the reason I don't like surprises." 

Kyrie nodded, her eyes blank as she stared at the photograph. Rafe looked so very young. It had happened so very long ago. She smiled to herself at a stray thought. "You must have come to America around the same time I left it." 

His curiosity piqued, Rafe turned his attention on her. As he watched, she walked over to the shelf and carefully returned the photo exactly to its original position. Then she began to slowly pace along the shelves, trailing her finger along the smooth wood. Still watching her, measuring her moves, he sat down on the couch. If he were doing an interrogation, he would have sworn she was worried by the way she moved. 

"Kyrie? Talk to me." 

"What do you want to know about me? Ask and I give you my word I will tell you the truth." The words were flat as she came to a stop in front of him. 

Rafe reached out his hand and pulled her down onto the couch. Sitting her beside him, he turned her face so he could watch her eyes as she spoke. Then he asked the hardest question first. "Who are you, really?" 

The smile that crossed her face was bittersweet. "My name was Kyrie Eleason, at least that is what I think it was. I remember my mother singing to me, saying I was named for a hymn. They told me it was Alessandre or AJ." 

"Who told you this?" 

"I don't know who they were." 

This was not what he expected and he froze. "I don't understand." 

"When I was little, I was in a coma for a long time. When I woke up they told me it was better not to remember what had happened in the past. I remember how relieved the doctor was that I couldn't tell him my name." She shrugged fatalistically. "The government gave me a new name and a new family. They sent me away, to South America. This is the first time I've been back to the United States since then."  
  
"Who sent you away?" 

Rafe watched as her eyes became shuttered. "It's classified." 

"Why were you sent away?" 

"I honestly don't know." The shuttered look disappeared as she shrugged. "I didn't really ask and I don't think anyone remembers anymore." 

"Why are you in Cascade?" 

"When I was sent away, I was given to Abraham Zelinski. Zel's my guardian, my friend. He's the closest thing I have to family. He came back to America to retire, here in Cascade. It was his dream, to retire away from the jungles and squalor. He wanted to grow old in America. He was given a tenure position in return for coming here." As Rafe watched, fear and pain entered her eyes, darkening them. AJ's voice was pained, catching on the words as she spoke. "Zel didn't make it as far as Washington. He became ill and then he vanished from the hospital. No one knows what happened. I came as soon as I heard. Some old friends of Uncle Zel convinced the Dean to let me cover for him, until he recovers. As of last week, he is officially missing, presumed dead. I'm finishing the exhibit as a memorial." 

"I'd heard about your uncle's illness but not that he was missing." Rafe murmured, his eyes still watching her face. "Do Blair and Jim know he's missing?" 

"I don't know." She shrugged, her eyes focused on the picture behind the sofa. She could remember Zel's reaction to it when he'd realized how she had taken it. She had promised him a whole new vantage point, and she always kept her promises. "It doesn't matter. I will finish what I started." 

"What else are you hiding?" That brought her eyes to his in panic. "The truth." 

"Something is very wrong." The whispered words were unexpected and so was the flat acceptance in them. "I don't really know what, but I know it is. It's like knowing that a storm is coming or that lightning is about to strike. There isn't anything you can do, you can only try to survive." 

"You said you were an amaru, a shaman." He stumbled over the word. "What does that mean?" 

"When I arrived in Peru, a shaman named Incacha was waiting for me. He said I was chosen by the spirits to be a shaman. The natives took me in and trained me. We lived among the Chopec for three months before we were sent to the Walks Through. They are my people." She smiled at the memory. With a quick unexpected move, she pulled her sweater over her head. The silky, sleeveless shirt she wore under her sweater clung to her skin, baring her tattoos to his eyes. Rafe stared at the tattoos that scrolled around her upper arms. He'd seen hints of them before, but he had never seen them in their entirety. She rested her finger against one faded, complex square. "This one marks the tribe that sent me away when I was a child." 

She moved her finger to a large multicolored tattoo, easily twice the size of any other on her arms. "This one marks me as one of the Walks Through People, as a sagrada, an amaru. Chosen by them to be one of them, to be a special link between the peoples." 

"I thought you said you were adopted by the Chopec." Rafe studied the odd golden yellow vine that seemed to wrap around the whole pattern. To him the vine seemed out of place, almost threatening -- as if it were trying to swallow the other tattoos. "Is this their mark?" 

"No. That belongs to another group. This one marks the Chopec." She pointed to it and then let her finger move to another small square. "It and each of these marks shows with whom I have forged an alliance, which tribal shamans have adopted and trained me." 

Rafe let his fingers trace the marks on her pale skin; on one he paused. "I know this one, it's African." 

"Yes, it is. I lived in Africa for over a year." She kept her eyes on his fingers, slowly naming each tribe as he touched a tattoo. "Each one of them made an alliance with my people. I am the contract between them. If I need help, I call out and they will come to me. If they need me, they call and I go to them or I send help to them if I cannot be there." 

"Who is Cage? What is he to you?" Rafe whispered, bringing her eyes back to his. It was something he wanted to know and yet he feared the answer at the same time. 

She smiled and shook her head. "Zel's nephew. My brother. A fellow photographer. A person who gets into more trouble than I do on my best day. My best friend's husband. Father to my godson. The person who's saved my life several times over and no one you need to be jealous of." She frowned, rubbing her temple and wincing. "Cage just is and always has been." 

"Headache?" 

"A little. Can I take you up on that tea?" She asked. Rafe's experienced eyes noted the faint lines at the corners of her eyes and the tiny tremble of her fingers as she set them back in her lap. Instantly his mind snapped back into full detective mode. 

"I never got around to asking you about that kind you like so much." He answered quietly, as he stood. 

"It's something I brought with me from South America. I doubt anyone here carries it." Kyrie's voice grinned at his retreating back. "It's pretty unusual even at home." 

"Is it medicinal?" He asked after putting the kettle on the stove. From the dim kitchen doorway he had a perfect view of her and she would barely be able to see him. She was leaning back on the sofa, a faint smile on her face as she shook her head. 

"Not really. It's very specific, acting as a painkiller with a little soporific thrown in. Normally I only drink it when I'm having problems sleeping. Lately though," she sighed. "I guess being in the city and worrying about Zel has been giving me headaches and making me sleepless." 

"Does it really help the pain or does it just knock you out?" Rafe watched her, keeping his voice calm and soothing. It was a trick he had carefully cultivated in the interrogation room, one that seemed to work very well for him. He wondered if she even recognized the subtle signs of a growing addiction to her tea... or was that what he saw? 

"Kills the pain. If I drink too much it makes me sleep." She looked over at him. "Why?" 

"Blair's always talking about alternative medicines. It'll give me something to tell him." Kyrie chuckled at his comment. "Do you have any with you? Or do you prefer regular tea and some aspirin?" 

"No. I don't carry it with me." She rubbed temple ruefully and stretched. "It's not good to take it too often. I haven't heard that it's habit forming, but I'd rather not chance it. Regular tea is fine." 

Somewhere, deep inside his chest, he felt a deep relief. For a moment, the tea had given him another worry. He turned back to the kitchen and pulled a tea container from his cabinet. The wooden canister with its carved birds always made him feel lighter when he picked it up. Maybe that was why Blair had given it to him. While waiting for the water to heat, he set about finding a tray to carry the tea into the living room. It only took him a few minutes to fix the tea, another gift from Blair. Giving it a minute to steep, he grabbed a bottle of aspirin and placed it on the tray beside the tea. Looking at it, he frowned before pulling a bottle of water from his refrigerator and adding it to the tray. 

"Did you fall asleep on me?" Rafe kept his voice low, as he set the tray on the coffee table. Instantly, Kyrie opened her eyes and turned to face him. 

"No." She watched him, eyes still serious. 

"One or two?" Rafe held up the aspirin bottle. 

"Two." She took the two little white pills with a grimace and quickly washed them down with the offered water. "Ugh. Bitter." 

"Try the tea. It should help get rid of the taste." He frowned to himself. The only other person he knew who complained about the bitter taste of plain aspirin was Ellison. "You said your name used to be 'Eleason'?" 

"Maybe." Kyrie looked at him, eyes curious, as she quickly drank her tea. She smiled, a very bright smile that lit her eyes as she remembered. "I couldn't have been much older than four, five on the outside. I remember the church, they sang the Kyrie Eleason so that it echoed, raining down like an angel's song from the vaulted stones. Eleason wasn't really part of my name. It was just what my mother called me." 

"Are you sure?" Rafe whispered. "Maybe it was close to your real last name." 

"No. You don't want to go there, Rafe. I remember enough to know that." Her voice went hard, her eyes cold and pained. He sat up, setting his bottle aside as he saw the naked terror in her eyes. "I don't ever want to go through that again. Ever." 

"What happened?" Rafe let his hand rest on her shoulder, feeling the tension there. When she looked away, he gently turned her to face him.  


"The man with the uniform and the badge drew his gun and shot us. One by one as we were trapped in the wreckage of the car." Her words were flat, emotionless, but her eyes held the shattered, haunted look of a child betrayed by someone she trusted. "I lived. No one else." 

Wordlessly, finally understanding all the clues she had given him over the past few weeks, Rafe pulled her into his arms. All he could think of was how much he would have given to have been there for her. Whatever she had been as a child, protected was not part of it. Why a cop, even a bad cop would wipe out an entire family... he fought back a curse. The fact that the government had gotten her out of the country as soon as she recovered told its own story. They had been afraid of a vendetta, one that meant to wipe all trace of the family from the face of the earth. From the way the government had responded, either her parents were Feds or informants. He knew all about that kind of vengeance and the scars it left on the survivors. That meant her friends, Cage and Zelinski were probably Feds too. It made a certain sense to him now. All the little things that bothered him, all the coincidences, they all made sense now. 

"I haven't thought about that in a long time." She whispered and he looked down to meet her eyes. They looked slightly odd, almost glazed. "I didn't realize I remembered it so clearly..." Her voice trailed off and she pulled away to look at him in horror. "What kind of tea was that, Rafe? What did you give me?" 

"It's a tea Blair gave me." Rafe frowned, thinking about that day. "He teased me about it, saying it was a special blend to help me see clearly when I flew my plane." 

"See clearly?" Kyrie cursed savagely, shocking him as she started to rise, eyes locked on the door. "I've got to get out of here. I've got to go." 

"What?" He grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place. "What's going on?" 

"I don't want to see. I hate seeing." The glazed look in her eyes was heavier and he noticed that a light sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead. "I dream enough as it is. Aspirin... thins the blood, analgesic, eases tension, speeds the effects of other medicines. Do you know what was in the tea?" 

"I don't know." He answered truthfully. "I didn't ask." 

She nodded, reaching for her cup and inhaling deeply. "Lily for attention, catmint to fight vertigo, eyebright for clear sight... I can't figure out the last one... I don't know its scent." Setting the cup down, she tried to pull away from him again. Then she paused, looking down at her fingers with a puzzled frown. "Ñoqa chiri-y kani." 

"Kyrie?" Rafe had barely whispered her name when her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed. He caught her, laying her on the couch. Fearfully, he reached for her neck and measured her pulse. With his free hand, he grabbed the phone from the side table and hit the speed dial. His fear didn't lessen when she began whispering, odd words that made no sense to him. 

852 Prospect Ave., Apt 307. 

Blair frowned as he took notes from the battered journal. He knew he had the right year, so why couldn't he find the information he knew had to be there? And what was that odd stuff about the boy with the visions? And why wasn't AJ noted in the journal. It didn't make sense. He set it aside, stretching wearily. Maybe he should follow Jim's advice and catch up on his sleep. He glanced at the clock on the stereo, midnight again. He hadn't realized it was so late. He stood and went towards his room. 

The sudden wave of despair that flooded him made him gasp aloud. A wail, rising from nowhere, echoed in his ears. Emotions: fear, anger, gloating triumph, hardened resolve, and a bright fierce love -- all shot through him in waves. Suddenly, it felt as if the temperature dropped to near zero and reality began to fade. He could feel the shock of his knees hitting the floor as he fell. 

"Blair?" Jim's voice in his ear made him open his eyes. "Blair? What happened?" 

"I don't know." He whispered, fighting off the dizziness that echoed noisily in his head. "Something not good." 

Jim's grunt was humorless, as he helped the younger man sit up. "Are you hurt?" 

"Just my pride, man. Did you hear it too?" 

"Hear what, Chief?" The sentinel's worried eyes met those of his guide. "I woke up just before your heart rate spiked, and then you fell." 

"Oh, man. You didn't hear the scream?" Blair watched Jim shake his head. "Then what woke you?" 

Jim hesitated before whispering, "I felt your fear." 

"That wasn't me." Blair looked around anxiously, wondering what was next. "Please tell me there aren't any drops of blood around us." 

The sentinel's nostrils twitched and he shook his head. "It wasn't a vision. At least I don't think it was." 

"Then what was it?" Blair asked, as the phone began to ring. He hung his head in disbelief. "Not again. I can't go through this again." 

"Take it easy, it might not be related to..." Jim stood and padded over to the phone. "Ellison. Rafe? Yeah, he's right here. What happened?" The pale eyes darted over to meet his guide's. A frown quickly formed between the dark eyebrows as he nodded. "Do you have a tape recorder there? Turn it on. We'll be there as fast as we can." 

"Jim?" Blair nearly took a step back at the dark look in his friend's eyes. 

"Do you remember that special tea you gave Rafe for his birthday?" 

Blair nodded warily. "Yeah. It's just tea from the holistic store just off campus, why?" 

"It knocked AJ out." Jim turned to go up to his room. "As soon as I'm dressed we need to get to his place." 

At Jim's quiet words, Blair froze. He slowly nodded as the words made sense. "Rafe? And AJ? She's Kyrie?" 

Jim nodded, waiting for an explosion. The younger man slowly sat down on the back of the sofa. "Oh, man. She's dating Rafe? I thought she was afraid of cops... I mean..." 

"She didn't seem to happy about his job, but she accepted it because it was Rafe's choice." Jim answered slowly, watching the other man's face. Blair was processing this fairly fast. "She didn't ask about him, she asked about cops in general... at least ones in Cascade." 

"She was trying to work her way around her own fear." Blair mused thoughtfully. "I wonder how she reacted to him being in Major Crimes? She did know, didn't she? Wait a minute, Jim, did she know he worked with you?" 

"I don't know." 

"This could be a disaster." Blair's eyes widened as he took in the ramifications of whole situation. The idea that Kyrie was dating a cop was one thing. A detective in Major Crimes was another. She had enough problems with the uniform and badge, add to it the natural curiosity that came with being a detective and the seniority it implied. He wondered if she had even considered it or was still just processing the fact that Rafe was a cop. "If she thought he was just a..." 

"That doesn't worry me, Chief." At Jim's words, the younger man looked up. "I'm worried about the way he reacted to my call this morning. Rafe doesn't like surprises. He never has." 

"I'll get a list of the ingredients..." Blair froze and turned to stare at the journal. "Uh, oh. It's starting to make sense now." 

"What makes sense?" Jim's voice drifted down from his room. 

Blair ignored the question as he darted into his room and grabbed his backpack. He quickly jammed a couple of journals into it. He paused and then acting on an instinct he didn't want to question, grabbed his own heavy notebook and laptop. He nodded to himself and shoved them inside too. Still moving fast, he brushed past Jim and opened a kitchen cabinet. Where was his ... there it was. A long arm reached past him to get the heavy tin box that was just out of his reach. 

"Are you ready?" 

The quiet tolerance in Jim's voice made him look over at his sentinel. Something seemed odd about the amused look on his sentinel's face but Blair dismissed it and ran over the list in his head. "Yeah." 

Maritime Condominiums, 11:30 p.m. 

Rafe opened the door almost as soon as Jim knocked. "Come on in. I don't like leaving her alone. Every time I turn my back she tries to leave." 

The young detective looked distracted as he led them into the living room. The soft sound of speech came from the figure lying stiffly on the couch. It took them a minute to realize that her wrists and ankles were bound together by a pair Rafe's silk ties. Jim turned a black look on Rafe. "This is your idea of talking?" 

"She tried to crawl out the window." Rafe's pained whisper made the look disappear. "I couldn't think of any other way to keep her still while I answered the door. I wasn't about to use my cuffs on her." 

"She's sleepwalking inside a vision? I didn't think that was possible." The anthropologist's whispered words made AJ freeze, head turning as if trying to find him. Blair quietly set his backpack down and moved close to her. The moment his hand touched her forehead, her eyes shot open. All he could see were her dilated pupils. 

"Shaman, chinka-sqa kasa-ni." The soft Quechua words made him look over at Jim helplessly. When he didn't answer, she began fighting against the silken material that bound her arms. 

"She says she's lost, Chief." Jim moved close and took her arms in his hands as he translated the words. She froze at his touch, and he quickly undid the knots. She responded by pulling away from him, repeating her earlier words. "Shaman, chinka-sqa kasa-ni." 

Jim answered. "Arí. Ñoqayku hamu-y, sagrada. Ñoqayku chay-ta pusa-mu-sa-yki." 

The words she whispered next brought a frown to Jim's face. "I didn't understand the rest of it. She isn't speaking Quechua anymore." 

"I don't recognize the dialect either." Blair whispered, moving Rafe's tape recorder closer to AJ, trying to get her words on tape. 

At his voice, she paused and turned unseeing eyes towards him. AJ's voice remained eerily calm, softly whispering in Quechua again. Jim began quickly translating the words for the other two men. "The altars are red, the cycle has begun in the north and the tide rushes in without stopping. The final battle is not yet here, but the tide has turned against the people. Innocent blood prepared the land and marked the sites. The flames have been moved to the mountains of the setting sun and the end of the cycle is at hand. Flames will follow or flames will die. The sacrifice is ready. The people are gathering. The sacrifice is at hand. The time for ending has come." Jim's voice tapered off as AJ began to repeat her words. 

"Can you talk her down?" Blair asked, pale at the thought of what the vision might mean. 

"I'll try." Before the sentinel could say anything else, AJ began whispering again. When tears started trickling down her cheeks, Jim reached out to wipe them away. She pulled away from his hand and pushed herself back against the cushions. Every move he made towards her brought an instinctive withdrawal. 

"Let me try." Rafe sat on the sofa and whispered her name. He didn't make any moves, he just called to her. Her hand reached out, blindly seeking his. The moment their hands touched, she crept into his arms. Closing his eyes to the curiously speculative look in the other men's eyes, Rafe settled himself on the couch, cradling her close. "She can't see us, can she?" 

"No. Her sight is locked somewhere else. She knows we're here, kind of, anyway. I really don't like this." Blair muttered to himself. "She shouldn't have reacted to the tea like this. It's a simple tea. I mean -- it has a little bit of a lot of stuff in it. But nothing hallucinogenic, not even in such a trace amounts that only you would react to it." Jim glared at his partner at that comment, hoping Rafe had missed it. Blair continued his running commentary. "It has to be a reaction to something else." 

"She took some aspirin right before drinking the tea." 

"Okay. Side effects of aspirin... blood thinner, analgesic, lowers some mental barriers, speeds up some medicines, hinders the liver's ability to remove some impurities. I know she drinks a dream preventer on a regular basis. Must be some kind of bad combination." Blair went over to his backpack and pulled out the notebooks and journals. The sound of his voice seemed to bother AJ and she shook her head, muttering something unhappily. The anthropologist noticed and pitched it slightly lower, as he pulled out his notebook and began to read. "The tea... I know I wrote down what was in it, just in case there was a problem later. Aha, here it is. Lily holds the attention, strengthens the will, fights shock, catmint to fight vertigo, to strengthen the eye, eyebright for clear sight, yellow dock for night vision. Okay. Side effects to the herbs, where is that list? Ah, here we go. Yellow dock... cleans or purges the blood, strengthens liver functions, speeds the digestive system. Eyebright... fights allergies, soothes throat. Catmint... fights vertigo, clears some eye problems, cures hyperactivity, calms the nerves, in a pure tea can help fight hyperactivity and cure insomnia, can be used as a substitute for... oh." 

"Oh?" The quiet question in his ear made him turn sharply. Jim's eyebrow was raised. "What happened, Chief?" 

"It's kind of complicated. AJ drinks a pretty rare tea. In fact, I was kind of shocked when I realized what it was." Blair looked from one detective to the other. "It's perfectly legal, guys. It's just not something most shaman would drink." 

"Why not?" Rafe asked quietly. 

"It blocks visions. Stops them cold. Most shaman want visions, they don't try to block them. The stuff is pretty strong too. It can keep you moving until you literally drop. Then you sleep pretty hard, hard enough not to dream. But that takes a lot more than I've ever seen her drink. If I remember correctly, a cup a day should just keep the visions away." He fingered the battered notebook and pulled it out. "According to the notes I've found in Zel's journals, one of his nephews was having visions, ones that tended to come true. That means AJ doesn't normally drink the stuff, because I've found a journal that specifically details visions the 'boy' had. This would be so much easier if I knew for sure why she doesn't want the visions." 

"So why did the tea do this to her?" 

"It really shouldn't have." Blair groaned to himself. "Aspirin, pao d'arco, dong quai, ginger and valerian. They all are analgesics, most thin the blood and speed up the circulation and power of other medicines and sometimes they change the normal responses to other herbs. Add to that the fact that catnip, aspirin and to a degree the valerian all lower certain neurotransmitters, as a long term affect." He looked at them. "If AJ has been drinking her tea every day since she got here, she's got to have a bit of a build up of some of the chemicals in her system. It's not dangerous, but it's also not good. It means that she has to be very careful about what medications and herbal remedies she takes to prevent any reactions. One of the odder side affects of the catmint is that sometimes, in certain situations, it acts like a form of psychedelic drug. Better yet, mixed in the proper proportions with some other herbs, it can be substituted for peyote. It's fairly rare, especially when taken as part of a tea. But in this situation, and probably only because of the stuff that's built up in her system, it makes sense." 

"Chief," Jim sighed, he was used to getting lost in Blair's explanations. "How about you explain it in English?" 

"Okay, AJ was actively taking something to prevent visions. It's not a normal thing for a shaman to do, usually they actively seek out visions, so she's going against her own training. Anyway, the tea has a cumulative affect of lowering her resistance to other herbs... like the ones in Rafe's tea. But the ones in Rafe's tea, when mixed with aspirin, mix together to speed up chemical reaction times and to lower certain neurotransmitters... brain chemicals like the ones involved in preventing visions. Catmint only acts as a psychotropic when in very specific situations... with her system thrown out of whack by the tea she drinks, she's mimicked that situation. " Blair shot an apologetic look at his friend. He really hadn't meant the tea to cause a problem. "So right now she's been forced into a vision quest. Now the length of the visions will depend on how much she's eaten today. All we can do is wait it out, she'll probably alternate between dozing and mild visions for a while." 

"What about taking her to the hospital?" Rafe suggested. "Would that help?" 

"No." The cold icy growl startled Rafe almost as much as it startled the whispering woman curled in Rafe's arms. Jim's voice softened as he whispered to AJ but this time he didn't move towards her. "Easy, we're not taking you anywhere. You're safe, Kitten. I promise." 

"He's right. They won't be able to do anything. Except maybe put her in for a psych evaluation." Blair added. "The doctors wouldn't understand." 

"And as soon as she was conscious enough to figure out where she was, she'd either break out or get committed trying to." Jim shuddered at the thought of the last time she panicked. "Let's just say that she doesn't like hospitals." 

Rafe looked from one to the other and nodded. "I take it that's worse than her fear of cops?" 

"Seeing that she's dating one, I'd say that was a definite yes." Blair muttered, looking away to hide his expression. He wondered how well Rafe was going to take the next part of this discussion. "How much do you know about shamanism?" 

"Not much." 

"How much did she tell you about what she is?" 

Rafe looked from Jim to Blair and then down at AJ. For the moment she seemed to be sleeping, resting quietly, but he wondered how long that would last. His face was clouded as he thought over what he knew and what he didn't know. Finally, he came to a decision. "Obviously not enough. How about you explain it to me?" 

"Rafe, do you believe in magic, in spirits and other things that can't be seen with normal human eyes?" Blair asked carefully. 

"Does this have anything to do with the way Jim can find evidence no one else can?" Rafe's question shocked both men. Blair and Jim looked at each other and Jim shrugged. 

"In a way." Blair temporized. "AJ's people believe that there are seven senses. And that some people are blessed with gifts that make these senses special." 

"Seven?" Jim's voice interrupted. "I've never heard of seven senses." 

"The Walks through People believe in seven senses, Jim. They count the normal five senses that all people share: sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell. Then there is the sixth sense, the ability to see or hear the spirit plane." Blair began explaining, grabbing a tattered journal. "The seventh, according to Zelinski's journal, is the one that allows them to have premonitions, true dreaming is what they call it. Everyone has these senses, but most never use or notice their sixth and seventh senses." 

"What happens when a person can use those two senses?" Rafe asked, but from the look on his face the anthropologist knew he'd already guessed. 

Blair looked down at the journal in his hands. "This is the only source I've ever found that deals with the Walks through People, so it's the only information I have and it's nowhere near complete." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "If they have either of the two senses they are watched carefully. They often become shaman for the tribe. If they have only the sight or the true dreaming they become hidalgo shaman. If they have both exceptional senses and one or more unusually active sense, they are taken to a special council of shaman. If the person passes the shaman's tests, they are raised to be a sagrado... someone who intercedes for the tribe." 

"Kyrie called herself a sagrada." Rafe shifted uneasily. 

"She is a sagrada." Jim spoke up. "She was a full fledged sagrada when I was with the Chopec. I didn't meet her, but I heard about her. Incacha made me promise to keep an eye out for their 'Hidalgo' sagrada... that's one of her names. I swore that I would protect the kid whenever and wherever I met her. Of course, she didn't let me know who she was until after she was hurt and sick." 

Blair snorted. "Zel says that for someone who 'sees' AJ walks into too much trouble." He sobered abruptly. "He also says that she deliberately walked into the path of a group of soldiers to give her people enough time to get to safety and was nearly killed for it. That doesn't include the times that she disappeared... Vanished so thoroughly even the local tribes thought she was dead. Every time she's vanished, when she's reappeared, well she was pretty badly hurt. Each time, it seems to have been preceded by a rapid progression of true dreams." 

"Do her people know she's here now?" Rafe asked quietly. 

"Let's hope not." Jim answered tersely. 

"Why not?" 

"They'd demand your life, Rafe." Jim's words were defeated. "You aren't a member of the tribe or from one of their scattered allies. You've become important to their sagrada, too important. As far as they'd be concerned either you are a threat, meaning the loss of AJ or... you are going to become part of the tribe." Jim reached out towards to the amulet he could see at Rafe's throat only to have his wrist grabbed by AJ's hand. Rafe quickly reached out and pried her fingers away. "It marks you as under her protection. Everyone from the Walks Through people would see it as an order from her. No one would hurt you, but they wouldn't let you go either. If they did, they'd hurt her and they would never hurt their own." 

Rafe bowed his head, closing his eyes thoughtfully. When he looked back up at Jim, his eyes were calmer than they had been. "Let's start at the top again. I want to know everything you know about this whole thing." 

Maritime Condominium's, 5 am. 

"So, that's all of it." Blair stretched and yawned. "At least everything I've been able to find out about them. Most people consider them an Andean myth." 

"The question is, what are you going to do about it?" Jim kept his voice quiet. He wanted the answer, plain and simple. He also wanted to gauge Rafe's reaction to everything he'd heard. The younger detective had listened quietly to Blair's explanation of shamanism and then asked about the tribes AJ had mentioned. He'd quietly absorbed the information they knew about AJ, the possibilities and the probabilities of what they had deduced from that information. Although his heart rate had spiked a few times, the sentinel wasn't sure how much it had really affected him. At their explanation of Jim's adopted relationship to AJ, the quiet tension in the younger detective had faded considerably. 

"Do?" Rafe looked over at Jim, the tired expression on his face not masking his pain. He looked down at the fingers that were entwined with his own. "What can I do, Jim? I love her. I'll be here with her until she has to leave and then I'll let her go. You can't cage the wind. If I'm lucky, she'll come back to me." 

"Always come back." The firm words were echoed by the sleepy smile on her lips, as Kyrie slowly uncurled herself. She blinked at the sight of Jim and Blair and frowned. "They're here? Then it wasn't another dream? I slipped again?" 

"Again?" Blair asked. 

"How many times has this happened?" Jim's voice overrode that of his guide. 

Rafe helped Kyrie sit up, his hands gently rubbing at her shoulders. "Your head still hurts?" 

She froze, looking from one to the other, trying to decide who to answer first and how much to say. Rafe grinned, as it occurred to him that she was probably calculating exactly how much she could get away without saying. "The truth, Kyr. We've spent all night comparing notes and we want the truth this time." 

"Again... yes. Too many times. Yes, my head hurts." She answered quickly, biting on her lip. With a soft sigh, she pulled away from Rafe and stood, walking over to the window. She faced away from them, eyes focusing on the darkness outside. "But the worst is still coming. I can feel it... too clearly." 

Rafe frowned, focusing his eyes on a spreading red line on her arm. "Kyrie?" 

At the same time, Jim's nostrils widened. "AJ!" 

She turned, her right hand clamped tightly on her left forearm. Tears streaked down her cheeks. "They are killing another, here in Cascade. They are here. The CIA promised they were gone, wiped out. The task force promised that there were none left. The governments of seven countries worked together to get rid of these people. They were all so sure they had succeeded. But they were wrong." 

"Shit!" Jim moved the fastest, reaching her first. He clamped his hands across the bleeding wound that had appeared on her skin. "Rafe, do you have a first aid kit?" 

"Hold on for a minute!" Rafe raced away to get his first aid kit, hoping that he had enough supplies for the wound he'd seen. 

"You know the victim, don't you?" Blair whispered, eyes wide. He could see the answer in her eyes. 

AJ ignored the question as she turned her head to stare out the window again. When she began to softly chant, Blair found himself not only recognizing the words but also joining in with her. He'd studied this tribe while in the Amazon; he recognized the chant she sang. They both ignored the looks Jim and Rafe shot their way as they completed the warrior's death chant. As they finished the quietly whispered words, AJ shuddered. She looked over at Blair and finally answered the question he'd asked before, "His name was Ayuane. He was one of my watchmen. He should have been at home, not here." 

"Oh, my God!" Blair's eyes widened in horror as the words sank in and he glanced at Jim. 

Jim frowned, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the wound in front of him. "This is pretty deep, kid. We really need to have a doctor look at it." 

"It will be gone with the dawn's light." AJ looked over at Rafe, tears still leaking from her eyes. "This is one of the penalties of who I am. His blood calls to mine." 

"How often has this happened?" He whispered, watching as Jim quickly wrapped gauze around her arm. 

"Only twice before, both times during a series of sacrifices. Never this bad though." She frowned and shrugged. "The bleeding will stop by dawn's light. The sacrifices will stop soon." 

"When?" Jim's voice was rough. 

"When they place me on the altar." The fatalistic way she spoke the words made the three men shudder. "Are you done?" 

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Blair interjected. 

"What?!" Jim's growl and the tightening grip on her arm made her pull away from him. 

Rafe reached out, barely touching her arm. But it was enough to make her freeze as he whispered, "Would you repeat that?" 

"The final sacrifice... the one at the end of times, that marks the new beginning of the ages... it is always of a sagrado so the Hijos del Sol can claim all the tribes to which the sagrado has alliances." She licked her lips, eyes closed. "I'm the only one in Cascade." 

"We need to call Simon." Jim reached for Rafe's phone. "He can arrange a safe house." 

"No." AJ shook her head, her eyes panicked. "I won't go. I won't be caged." 

"AJ, we need to place you in protective custody. The idea that these... sicko's are going to be after you --" Blair's voice broke. 

"Kyrie, you can't fight us on this." Rafe pulled her into his arms and tilted her head back so she was forced to meet his eyes. "I don't want to lose you and I'm not going to let them take you." 

"They won't take me, Rafe. Not by force." AJ smiled wryly. "They can't. The sagrado has to walk willingly into their hands. No force. No drugs. The sagrado has to be a willing sacrifice." 

"Oh, God." Blair whispered, eyes horrified. "But that would be... I mean how could you go willingly to something like that?" 

"Blair, if it would keep Jim alive, would you step in front of a bullet?" At the question, the three men looked at each other, knowing the answer. "Or knowing you could save him, would you turn your back on him?" 

"Who would they hold over you?" Rafe asked quietly. 

"They're all right here, querido." AJ answered him just as quietly. "They would come after you three." 

Rafe released her chin, letting her bury her face against his chest. As his hand gently rubbed the tense muscles in her back, he let his eyes meet Jim's. Then both men turned their gaze to Blair's. Without saying a word, they all acknowledged the problem facing them. Not only were they going be in danger from the local criminals, but all three were now targets for this cult. And they already knew from Kelso's notes that the Children of the Sun were serious. That meant they had to talk to Simon and the rest of Major Crimes. But not when AJ was around. With her steadfast dislike of the PD there was no way they were going to be able to talk her into going to the station. They'd wait for a little while; give her time to settle down. Then they'd tell the others what little they knew. 


	11. The Storm Strengthens

The Storm by Ronnee   
Chapter 10: The Storm Strengthens.

* * *

  
Maritime Condominiums, 15 November, Dawn 

The three men watched AJ's restless pacing. The closer it came to the dawn, the tighter her turns, the paler her face became, and the darker the stain on her bandaged forearm. 

"Hidalda! Sit down." Jim growled, as she headed back towards the window. For a second he thought he saw something at her feet – but before he could focus on it, it vanished. 

"It's almost finished." AJ murmured, letting Rafe pull her to a halt by the window. She leaned against him with a sigh. "It's almost done." 

"Kyrie?" The worried whisper brought her head up, her eyes meeting Rafe's hazel gaze. "You're wearing yourself out." 

"Dawn's coming. I'll be fine then." Her words were spoken with a weariness they could feel. She turned to the window, watching the first fingers of light as they streaked across the sky. Instantly she relaxed, the tension vanishing with the spreading light. "It's over." 

"Now will you talk to us? Give us an explanation?" This time Jim's voice was soft as he took in the way AJ leaned into Rafe's embrace. Her eyes met his and she nodded, not moving away from Rafe's support. He looked at both of them, noting the exhaustion in their faces. "Why don't you sit down? You look exhausted." 

Jim watched silently as AJ glanced back at Rafe before heading for free seat on the sofa beside Blair. As she stepped away from him, the young detective's hand went from her waist to her hand and he let her movements pull him with her. Still without speaking, their hands meshed, they walked over to the sofa. AJ curled up in the seat and Rafe perched on the arm beside her. Jim fought down a grin as he noted the instinctive move that put Rafe between the sentinel sitting in the armchair and the young woman on the sofa. 

"Let me see your arm, AJ." Jim forced himself to keep his tone light. He wasn't sure who was jumpier… AJ or Rafe. Again he saw a shadowy blur – this time batting against Rafe's legs. Whatever it was, it was much smaller than his spirit guide. Jim stared at it and it turned, wide anxious feline eyes met his before it vanished again. Immediately, Rafe began relaxing. 

"It's not bleeding anymore." The certainty of her answer made Jim frown. Before she could refuse, Rafe gently pulled her arm up to expose the reddened bandage. She protested, "Brian, it stopped. They always stop bleeding when their maker passes over. It tells me of when they are most in need." 

"You know that, but I need to see it." Rafe's quiet words silenced her protest. 

"Rafe," Blair spoke softly, catching the young detective's attention. "Remember what I said about shaman? We take our responsibilities seriously. Any wound that marks a bond like that one will heal as quickly as it appears." 

Rafe looked up and frowned at the anthropologist. In response, AJ shook her head and shrugged. But she didn't try removing her arm from Rafe's gentle grip. Taking her silence for consent, Jim used the first aid kit's sheers to cut away the soiled gauze. No one spoke as he removed the bandage and then cleaned off her forearm. Healthy skin, a bit pale but unwounded appeared. Even though he expected to find it healed it still startled him. Jim ran his sensitive fingers over the healed wound. Other than a slight swelling, he couldn't find what had been a gaping wound. 

"It's completely gone." Blair's muffled exclamation brought a rueful smile to AJ's lips. 

"Did you not believe me?" She asked, amused by their reactions. 

"Even believing your words, it's difficult to resist the proof. Neither of us has ever seen something like this. Blair's told me about this kind of thing… but seeing _is_ believing." Jim answered for them, letting his eyesight dial up as he noted the many scars on her forearm. Five, including the one that had bled earlier were dull white, the normal color of old scar tissue. All of the others glimmered a faint silvery blue to his eyes. "Does each one have a… a name?" 

There was a slight pause before AJ nodded, placing her free hand on her arm and letting her fingertips drift across the scars. Her eyes darted over to Rafe before returning to meet Jim's. "Yes. This one is Tito, Ayuane's shaman. This is Enqueri. This is Enqueri's shaman. Each one is a chief or a watchman or a shaman. Each one marks a tribe bound by two to me and mine." 

"The bluish ones, they are living people?' Rafe's voice was full of wonder as touched a thin blue scar. "Why?" 

"What do you know about tribal covenants? Like the ones Livingston wrote about?" Blair asked before AJ could respond to Rafe's question. 

Rafe thought for a moment and then nodded. "In Africa, the tribes used to make alliances that were bound by blood. It was a very rare and important ritual, which left the participants as living contracts between tribes. This is the same, isn't it? Kyrie is part of a living contract." 

"Yeah," Blair answered softly. "She is – at least until the day she starts her own tribe." 

At his words, AJ stirred restlessly. "Can I have my arm back? Please?" 

Reluctantly, both Jim and Rafe released their holds on her arm. Immediately she was up and moving to the window. "I'm going out for some air." 

"Hold on a minute, kitten. We've got a lot to figure out first." Jim spoke up. "We need to tell Simon about you and the Hijos del Sol —" 

"About what? About me being a sagrada? No." She shook her head. "I won't. I can't. I won't be written into any official reports." 

"How about we tell him what little we know about your people's involvement with the Children of the Sun." Rafe replied. "We can skip the shamanism and the stuff that's classified. But we have to tell him." 

The young woman looked from one man to the other and frowned other. It was obvious that she was very reluctant to speak to their captain but finally she nodded her agreement. 

852 Prospect Ave, 15 November 

"Good morning, Simon." Ellison opened the door with a flourish. 

"This had better be good, Ellison." The captain growled as he entered the loft apartment. He paused at the sight of a camera bag just inside the door. "Is she in trouble again?" 

Jim shrugged and glanced over at Blair. "She's part of the whole thing." 

Simon sighed. He knew from experience that when Jim got evasive, life got tricky for the police department. "Where is she? What's she done?" 

"She's as good at keeping secrets as Jim is." Blair answered, as he flipped a pancake onto a plate. "Right now, she and Rafe are on the roof taking pictures." 

"Rafe? And Fortaleza?" Simon felt his jaw drop and resolutely forced it back into place. "That's a surprise, but not worth dragging me over here this early on a Sunday morning." 

"What if I told you she's tied to the scene at the foundry?" The tense words were spat as if they fouled the sentinel's mouth. 

"She's part of that damn Cult?" Simon decided the day couldn't get much worse. He looked around the loft. "Why is she on the roof with Rafe and not in cuffs?" 

"No, Simon. She's not one of the cultists – she's one of their targets." Jim's voice was a low frustrated growl. "She's been hunting them since she arrived in Cascade – without telling us a thing." 

"And you are blaming yourself for not knowing. Jim, I was here when she was delirious and she kept her mouth shut then." Simon shook his head. "You can't read minds." 

"Jim." Blair spoke before Jim could reply. "This is about ready. Why don't you get AJ and Rafe?" 

The sentinel nodded and walked to the balcony. Stepping outside, he tilted his head and quietly called, "Hidalga? Are you done? Breakfast is ready." 

Simon stared, realizing that although he could just barely hear the detective, Fortaleza was obviously responding to the sentinel. The only way she could possibly hear him was if she too had enhanced hearing. He slowly sank onto the sofa. This was definitely not an auspicious start to the day. A cup of coffee appeared in front of him. 

"Are you okay, Simon?" Blair's voice made him look up. 

"She heard Jim – is she another sentinel?" Simon shook his head immediately. "Why didn't Jim react to her like he reacted to—" He couldn't say the name to Blair and waved his hand instead. 

"No. She's something else entirely." The anthropologist answered soberly. "It's all right, Simon. It really is." 

Just then a brisk knock came and the door opened. Fortaleza bustled in, stripping out of her coat and hanging it on a hook. A moment later, she hung Rafe's coat beside hers. She was chuckling at a comment that Rafe whispered to her as he placed her camera in the camera bag. 

"Good morning, sir." Rafe acknowledged Simon's presence from where he stood near the young woman. At a low growl, he turned his attention to her and watched as she carefully repacked the camera bag. 

Simon looked from one to the other curiously. Even as he wondered how Jim had convinced Fortaleza to allow Rafe to shadow her he saw her give his youngest detection a huge smile. To Simon's astonishment, Rafe smiled back, taking her hand in his. Suddenly it clicked – Jim's evasiveness with his knowledge about Rafe's new lady friend. The same quiet evasiveness from his junior detective. He shook his head, commenting quietly, "I thought you didn't like police officers, Fortaleza." 

She immediately turned her attention to him. The wide silver-green eyes he remembered staring at him with fever were smiling happily at him. She shrugged ruefully. "I still get very nervous around people in uniform or when they flash their badges. Police make me more nervous than others. You, however, are a big, warm, teddy bear and Brian… well, he's Brian." 

"I'm a what?" Simon knew his growl was threatening so he allowed a grin to slip into view. To his amusement, she took a half step backwards before seeing the grin and rolling her eyes. Even as she froze, the detective took a step forward, his arms coming around her protectively. Simon raised his eyebrows at the gesture and smiled thoughtfully. "So, Rafe actually answers when you use his given name… hmm. Impressive. But you didn't say anything about how you handle Ellison." 

Across the room, Jim looked up from the plate he was setting on the table. "Don't even ask her to go there, Simon." 

A smothered chuckle burst from the kitchen and Blair reappeared, eyes dancing with mirth. "You missed some really wonderful entertainment a few weeks ago. Jim and AJ showed some really classic forms of sibling non-communication. They both pouted. I'm still not sure which of them won." 

"I did." As one, the sentinel and the photographer responded to his quip with frowns. Then they turned to each other and smiled. 

"I think breakfast is ready." Jim spoke quietly, puling out a chair. "Kitten?" 

Gently pulling away from Rafe's arms, AJ moved over to the table – carefully skirting around Blair. The young man rolled his eyes as Jim seated her. "Do you two see what I have to put up with? They gang up on me." 

Simon looked at Rafe who shrugged and spread his hands. "Don't look at me, sir. I have no idea." 

* * *

Simon didn't ask any questions as they ate. Instead he quietly took notice of the silent communication occurring around him. Whatever was bothering the group, it was pretty serious. Blair and Rafe kept their attention on the silent woman playing with her food while the sentinel watched all three of them. The tension was constant and about thick enough to see. He decided he'd been patient enough and set aside his fork. 

"I take it, this can't become common knowledge or be admitted through normal channels?" Simon asked quietly as he sipped his coffee. Four sets of eyes focused on him. 

"No, Simon, it can't." Jim spoke up with a quick glance at Fortaleza. 

The young woman looked away, fiddling with her fork again. 

"I think it's dead, AJ." Blair commented wryly. 

She winced at the comment and stopped fidgeting, her face a calm mask, showing nothing. After a moment, she stood and carried her plate to the kitchen before heading to the balcony doors. There she stopped, staring out into the view. Rafe shook his head and followed her. 

"Oops." Blair's eyebrows rose at her reaction. "I didn't mean it like that." 

"Let's move this to the living room. We might as well explain why we called Simon." Jim spoke up, trying to break through the sudden tension. The other's acknowledged the sentinel's suggestion and regrouped. 

AJ settled herself comfortably on the loveseat beside Rafe. Blair perched on the arm of next to her, not quite blocking any access to her. Behind them, Jim paced along the length of the couch. Simon noted the tableau thoughtfully. He wondered briefly whether they were acting to protect her or to prevent her from fleeing the coming conversation. 

"It's not the easiest thing to explain, sir." Rafe began, hesitating. 

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Simon prompted. "And how does this relate to the stuff your source gave us?" 

"Well, let's see." Jim pursed his lips thoughtfully. "The beginning… that would be Zelinski's disappearance. When he vanished AJ was contacted to come to Rainier and cover for him. My source says that the only known expert on this Cult is Zelinski." 

"Do you think his disappearance is related to the Cult's actions here in Cascade?" Simon became all business as he began realizing the possible scope of the situation. 

"There is no evidence of foul play." AJ bit her lip and continued. "He was ill. From the information I've been able to gather he was suffering from a bout of yellow fever. In his delirium, he managed to get out of the hospital and disappear." 

"No one has seen or heard from him since then?" Blair whispered in concern. "That's not good." 

"He is listed as probably dead now." The young woman looked directly at Simon. "Yellow fever doesn't work for the cultists. While they could have had something to do with his disappearance, there is no evidence that they did so." 

"What do you know about this group?" Simon directed his question at her. 

She shook her head. "Officially? Absolutely nothing." 

"Simon, a lot of what AJ has done in South America is classified." Jim came to a stop next to his guide. The sentinel tilted his head as he considered his words before speaking again. "There are more flags on her files than I've ever seen. My source told me that anything Zelinski knew, Fortaleza probably knows." 

"Gee, thanks." The sarcastic groan made them look over at the young woman. "I'm going to have to find this source of yours and correct that impression." 

Rafe's eyes widened and he asked, "You know Jim's source?" 

"Nope. At least, not yet." Fortaleza closed her eyes. 

"Why don't you explain what you're really doing in Cascade?" Simon prodded. 

Her eyes popped open and she stared at him. Her voice was flat as she spoke. "It was suggested that I come to Cascade. Partly to take over Zel's exhibition and partly to investigate the unsubstantiated rumor that the Children of the Sun had moved their base of operations from the Yucatan to Cascade. If I found any proof, I was to call for a containment unit and get out of the area." She kept her eyes focused on Simon's as she finished. "I didn't find any evidence of their presence. Not until I got the phone call telling me to watch the news Friday." 

"Who called you?" Jim asked quietly. 

"One of my photography students called me. I had asked them to tell me if anything interesting showed up in the news." AJ looked down at her hands. "I meant for them to keep an eye out for material for their final exams, not for them to get involved with los Hijos." 

"Los Hijos?" Rafe asked. 

"The Children of the Sun – we call them los Hijos del Sol." 

"Have you called your people?" Jim asked quietly. 

"There was no answer. They're no longer available." Pain was etched across her face as she whispered her answer. "I took too long. Every number I called is either unavailable or there is no one there who can help." 

"What can you tell us about the Cult?" Simon asked in frustration. 

"There are going to be more dead – a lot more." Fortaleza whispered; her eyes haunted. "I tried to get more information for you. It hasn't arrived. I don't know if it will. I've been having trouble getting through to my people in Peru. If it arrives, I'll give it to you." 

Rafe wrapped his arm around her shoulders and looked up at the captain. "Kyrie is going to be their goal, sir. They have to get her to join them… willingly." 

Simon looked from one man to the other, noting their unhappy expressions and realized they were going give him any more information than they already had. "How likely is that occurrence, AJ?" 

She looked at Rafe before turning her face back to Simon's searching gaze. "I don't want to die. I plan on avoiding them like the plague." 

"Are you still against the idea of police protection?" He found himself keeping his tone gentle. AJ barely whispered her refusal, but he heard it. Before he could argue, he noticed Jim's silent hand signal to drop the subject. It was echoed by Rafe's pointed headshake and he knew they had already made private arrangements to take care of the problem. He decided to let it go, for now. 

* * *

  
The Cascade Museum, Etterman Wing, 16 November, early am. 

Kyrie stared at the displays in horror. Every single guy line had been cut. The mannequins had been striped, their clothing lying in a pile to one side. Ceremonial pots were stacked together with a complete disregard to fragility or age. The false jungle canopy had been slashed and in several places formed huge cloth waterfalls that draped down to the floor. The cables and ropes from the rafters were gone, cut down and left in untidy piles on the floor and on the wrecked displays. 

Warily, she stepped into the dimly lit hall and looked around. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the speed dial. She had promised the sentinel that she'd tell him about any problems, and this was definitely a problem. A curare tipped dart hit her chest as it rang. 

"Ellison." 

"Enqueri? Where's Blair?" Her voice shook. 

"Fortaleza? Where are you?" 

"Musszzzz...." her voice died as the drug did its work. 

Major Crimes Bullpen 

"Fortaleza!" Blair whirled when he heard Jim growl the name. As he watched, the sentinel focused all of hearing on the tiny phone speaker. "Come on, Chief, we're going. Rafe! She's in trouble." 

Rafe let his file hit his desk as he reached for his coat. He followed Jim and Blair out the door. Several heads turned as the three men raced for the elevator. Brown barely got out of their way as they ran past him. He watched them go, surprise lighting his face. 

"What's up?" He asked. 

"They got a call from Fortaleza and ran out." Megan answered, looking back down at her paperwork. 

"Isn't that Blair's anthropologist friend?" H asked. Behind him, the door to Captain Banks' office opened. "So why did Rafe go with them?" 

"Fortaleza is Kyrie. And from the looks of things someone doesn't like the new museum show she and Blair are working on." Simon spoke up from his office doorway. "Taggart, I want you and Brown over there now. According to dispatch, every single alarm in the museum was set off by the security guards a few moments ago." 

Joel put down his coffee and reached for his coat. Brown was up and at the door waiting for him. 

* * *

  
The Museum of Culture and History 

Ellison jumped out of the truck and ran for the museum door, Sandburg right behind him. A moment later, Rafe pulled up. They were waved through he side entrance by museum security. Once inside, the anthropologist led the way, taking the fastest route to the west hall. He skidded to a stop just inside the door, staring in mingled shock and horror. 

AJ leaned against a fallen display, two paramedics kneeling beside her. One of them sat back as she groggily shoved him away. When she tried to stand, she swayed and the EMT grabbed her arm, holding her steady. Slowly, he lowered her back to the floor. The three men went over to them. 

"How is she?" Blair asked. 

Rafe knelt down; close enough to take AJ's hand without getting in the EMT's way. She clutched at it like a lifeline. Even as he returned her grip, she calmed, closing her eyes and ignoring the hovering paramedics. 

"She regained consciousness moments after we arrived. We removed this from her." The EMT glared at them impartially, then he held up a plastic bag holding a small wooden dart. He blinked as the lead detective took it and sniffed its contents. He'd worked with Ellison and Sandburg before, usually with Sandburg hurt and the bigger man in the way. "Don't lose that, the docs are going to want to find out what's on it. Anyway, it looks like she hit her head when she fell, but she doesn't speak English and keeps pushing us away." 

"It's probably the uniforms." Blair murmured to the paramedics. At their shocked looks he smiled apologetically. "Where she's from usually only the cops and the military wear blue or black pants with their uniforms. And neither group is very friendly." 

"The dart was coated with curare, a really mild mixture of it." The sentinel spoke softly, his eyes focused on the groggy woman. "Hidalgo? Fortaleza? Can you hear me?" 

She turned her head slowly towards him but even then she didn't release Rafe's hand. The unfocused eyes and confused expression made the men wince. "Enqueri?" 

Jim spoke to her in Quechua giving her precise instructions. After a long moment, she finally nodded at the end of his words and settled herself comfortably against Rafe. Then he turned back to the others, translating for them. "I told her to let you take her to the hospital. I'll go with you to keep her quiet." 

"Jim, are you sure you want to go with AJ?" Blair asked quietly. "She's my responsibility." 

"Actually, she's mine." Rafe spoke up. "And she's not about to let go of my hand, either." 

"Do either of you speak Quechua? I have to go with her and so does Rafe." Jim sighed roughly. His mind raced over the alternatives but couldn't find one he liked. "Blair needs to stay here and figure out what's missing. I can't do much to help with that. Rafe can't talk to her while she's like this." He closed his eyes momentarily before turning a baleful glare at his guide. "I'll get Simon to send someone to help you, wait outside until they get here. As soon as I can, I'll come back." 

While they were talking, the EMT's worked on Fortaleza. She was quickly fastened to a stretcher, waiting quietly for Ellison's next instructions. The big detective looked around again, frowning. 

"Don't leave without calling me, okay, Chief? And I don't want to find out that you went climbing up to her place either." 

"Gotcha. That gets to wait for you." Blair watched them leave before turning back to the damaged hall. He muttered to himself. "Oh, man, this is a disaster." 

"Hairboy?" Detective Brown called out as he entered the hall. His eyes wandered warily across the room, taking in the toppled displays, the piles of artifacts and the draping curtains. This place could easily be a sniper's paradise. "Yo, Blair! Where'd you go?" 

"I'm up here, H." Blair's head popped out from the top of a display. His hair was clubbed back, tied with a piece of cord he'd grabbed from a display. Seeing the two detectives, he scrambled down from his perch. "Forensics already cleared this area. Told me to see if I notice anything missing. Like that's a possibility in this mess." 

"How long will it take for you to know if anything's missing?" Joel Taggart asked, walking carefully to his side. 

"Without AJ's help? A week, at least." The anthropologist looked around wearily. "It took us four weeks to plan this and another just to get it all arranged. Setting up just the anteroom took two weeks, but for that we had student muscle to help out. We can't use their help to find out if anything is missing or damaged. It'll just be us. The dean is giving us student help to clean up and to set the displays back to rights." 

"How is she?" Brown frowned at the smaller man. It wasn't often that he got so down. "From what the guard said I thought she wasn't hurt too badly." 

"Don't know yet." Blair picked up an urn and studied it critically. With a sigh, he placed it on the display. He looked at it for a moment and adjusted it slightly. "Jim went with her to the hospital." 

"He left you here, alone?" The two detectives looked at each other curiously. There was a pause, and then Brown put their question to words. "I'm completely confused. First, I thought Fortaleza was your current girlfriend. Then Simon said she is Rafe's lady. So why did Jim go with her?" 

"AJ? And me? Are you kidding? She would probably tear me to little pieces. Or her people would." Blair grinned at the thought and started to chuckle as he caught onto the implications of the thought. Having a sentinel at home kept him busy; dating a sagrada while being a guide would have him beyond busy. "I work with her, I like her, but date her? Even Jim has trouble getting her to behave herself. All we are is friends. Well, she's kind of his little sister, but that's complicated." 

"Must be an Amazon if you talk about her like this." Joel joked. 

"Nah, just a really good friend. You know, the kind you'd want in your corner if life got rough." Blair responded. He grinned to himself again. "She'd probably take the Amazon thing as a compliment though." 

The two detectives watched as the younger man went back to restoring the display. The pedestals were already standing again. As he found the artifacts that he was searching for, he examined them carefully before setting the undamaged ones back one their stands. The damaged ones were gently placed in a group to the side. 

After a few minutes, the two men wandered away, taking in the incredible amounts of damage. Brown looked at his partner, sharing an amazed look over the destruction. Most of the artifacts seemed to be fine, but everything else was completely ruined, the mannequins and props hacked apart, as if someone had searched them. He wondered exactly what they had been looking for. 

The forensics group was carefully dusting another part of the display. The blue jacketed men and women were gingerly going over every piece as if it might be a clue to what had happened. Brown shook his head knowing that with Ellison and Sandburg involved they weren't going to leave anything to chance. 

"Blair?" Joel stopped, looking at one of the walls. "Is this part of your exhibit?" 

The anthropologist looked over at them but couldn't see what Joel was referring to from where he was. With a sigh, he put down the clay pot he was examining and carefully headed across the exhibit. It took him several minutes to reach the two detectives. From there he could easily see what had captured their attention. 

The east wall had been painted, covered with ancient looking pictographs. Blair studied them curiously and then froze. He turned, ignoring the other men's voices and gazed about the room. Finally, he caught sight of where the display should be and headed over to it at a slow walk. He didn't notice when Joel and Henri flanked him protectively, pulling their weapons as they walked towards the remains of the display. 

The young man carefully looked at the display, circling it warily. The canopy near it had been slashed so that it draped around the display, forming a secluded alcove for it. Deciding it was safe; he began moving the heavy material, pulling it over the remains of other displays. Finally, he uncovered the end of a large stone block. The heavy stone altar in the center of the display was carved with hieroglyphics that were similar to those painted on the wall. 

Blair swallowed and then pulled the rest of the canopy out of the way, knowing what he was going to find. He gagged and turned away from the view. Centered on the block altar was a shadowed figure. Instinctively, the two detectives stepped forward. The sight of the body made both veteran officers pale. 

"Dear God." Joel whispered, closing his eyes. With a shaking hand, he automatically checked for a pulse. 

"Aw, man." Brown cursed quietly, pulling out his cell phone. "Simon? Brown. Blair just found a body. You'd better tell the coroners hurry up to the museum... No sir, they haven't picked up the security guard yet. No, sir, there's no chance the person could be alive. Yes, sir, we'll stay with Sandburg." 

Blair turned to the two men, his voice shaking as he asked, "Security guard? What are you talking about?" 

"After you, Ellison, and Rafe left the Bullpen, the new guard arrived for his shift. He found the man he was supposed to relieve, dead. Simon sent us as back-up when dispatch called it in." Brown answered, eyes still on the body lying on the altar. "Maybe we need to get you out of here until we know there aren't anymore surprises." 

"No." Blair reached for the notepad Joel had pulled from his suit pocket. As soon as the older man released it and his pen, Blair began to jot down notes. He refused to allow the two detectives to escort him away from the scene. He was going to catalog the site. In theory, he knew this sacrifice – he just hadn't ever seen it. The fact that the sacrificed body was fresh, not several hundred years old bothered him. But other than that, it seemed to conform to all the information and studies he'd put into ancient Aztec rites. The idea that someone was resurrecting ancient Central American sacrifices in Cascade irritated the young shaman. He carefully took notes on the hieroglyphs, the body's placement on the altar, the wounds. 

Beside him, the two detectives traded glances. They usually weren't present when he became immersed in his own work. They had seen Sandburg stand up to Captain Banks to work with Ellison. They had seen him argue Ellison down to get his own way. They knew better than to try and stop him when he wanted to do something. Silently they decided to let Ellison handle the situation. They'd just keep an eye on the anthropologist until he returned. 

The sound of his cell phone caught his attention, making him stop taking notes. Blair pulled out his cell phone and answered it distractedly. "Sandburg." 

"Blair, what's going on? Simon just called and told me you found a body." The sentinel's voice sounded strained. 

"Taggart and Brown are taking care of it and keeping an eye on me, Jim." He had to smile. Even when there was no trouble left, the older man worried about him. 

"Chief, you know better than that. It's not just..." 

"I know, man. Believe me, I know. How's AJ?" 

"She's more trouble than you are, Chief. All she talks about is getting back to the museum. The doctor wants to keep her for the night." Jim sounded almost amused at her antics. "Right now, Rafe is dealing with both of them." 

"Real funny. You remember what happened last time." 

"Yeah, I do. Rafe's taking her to the loft. And then, since Rafe has to meet with the DA, Megan will be keeping an eye on her." Jim's voice was full of satisfaction. Blair chuckled at the sound of his partner's enjoyment of the situation. Siccing the Australian on Fortaleza had obviously made Jim's day. He frowned as he heard the next words. "Blair, I want you to stay put and leave the exhibit alone. Taggart and Brown will keep an eye on you until I get back to the museum." 

"Wait a minute, Jim." He began protesting. "This is my exhibit and I need to know what..." 

"Blair, everything that's happened to you and to AJ has revolved around that exhibit." 

"I hear you, man." Blair thought for a moment and his mind hit on something he hadn't noticed before. "Um, Jim?" 

"What?" the older man's voice got harsh as he heard the trepidation in his partner's tone. 

"Do you think that maybe AJ is still keeping something from us?" 

"What do you mean, Chief?" The sound of traffic nearly drowned out the quiet voice. When Sandburg got ideas, Ellison had learned to listen carefully. 

"Well, during that attack at her place, the thieves kept talking about some collection of knives. But I've checked all my paperwork and there are no knives listed. None, Jim. The displays aren't really damaged, but they were searched. In fact, it looks like the whole place was searched." The anthropologist was pacing, not noticing how the two Major Crimes detectives were watching him. "The only thing that makes sense is that whatever they're looking for is in the Mexican collection that hasn't arrived yet. But AJ is handling that personally and I haven't been able to find anything out about it." 

"Hold that thought, Chief." Jim's growl was punctuated by the sound of tires and angry horns. "I'll be there as soon as I can." 

Jim met the coroners in the hall as they left the exhibit hall. He glanced at their pallor and stopped them. He quickly unzipped the black body bag to peer at the corpse. He frowned thoughtfully. The dead man had not died easily. His dark skin was nearly black from the bruising, marking how he'd fought his killers. Except for the bruising, though, there was no blood on the dismembered corpse. The faint scent of death was almost obscured by the heavy scent of spices and herbal oil. The hollow cavity of the man's chest and stomach had been packed with green leaves. 

"Where are his...?" Jim motioned to the body. 

The pale coroner's assistant looked at him and shook his head. "Your detectives are still looking for his organs, man." 

"What about the blood?" 

"None of that either." 

The big detective straightened and stalked into the exhibit hall. Inside he quickly found his guide circling an exhibit on the far side of the hall. The heavy scent of crushed herbs filled his senses. He reeled slightly and dialed down his sense of smell. . The anthropologist was carefully sketching the Aztec diorama. Around him, forensic techs were dusting and photographing the site. 

"You okay, Jim?" Blair whispered, watching with concern. The sentinel nodded as he stopped beside his partner. For a moment, he could hear drums and chants as he stared at the stained stones. 

"Hey, Ellison!" Joel's voice made him look up from his examination of the altar, interrupting his thoughts. "You need to see this!" 

Excited at their finds, the two detectives joined the sentinel and guide. Joel held a long bladed, iron knife in an evidence bag. Blair ignored it but snatched the other from Henri. It was piece of yellow notepaper, writing on both sides. Slowly he sat down on the edge of the dais, his lips moving as he tried to read the hieroglyphs through the plastic bag. His thoughts were easily readable, going from surprise to concern to confused incomprehension. 

"What is it, Hairboy?" Brown's voice was gentle as he caught the worried frown Ellison directed at his partner. 

"It's... all wrong. I mean, it's right, but it's wrong too." 

"Come on, Chief. You have to explain it to us." The sentinel crouched near his partner, watching him, using his senses to gage his guide. 

"This is written in Aztec and Mayan hieroglyphs. They shouldn't be mixed like this… they are from two different cultures. And no one still uses either of them, not anymore. But these are, I mean... I can't translate them, not all of them. Parts are passages from things, but out of sequence. Others are written wrong, changed from what I learned." Blair stood, moving away from the exhibit, heading for the eastern wall. He pointed to the writing there. "Those are perfect. They announce the beginning of the cycle of sacrifices, the timing and the sacrifice type. The sequence is correct and the forms are literally perfect. The notes on the paper make no sense. At least, not to me. I need to get another opinion." 

"Chief, that's evidence." Jim's voice was amused as the young anthropologist headed for the exit. 

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that, Jim." He looked sheepishly over his shoulder at his partner. "Any chance I can take this over to the anthro department?" 

"Not this afternoon. It has to be logged as evidence first. Then, you can make copies and take the copies with you." 

"Yeah, right man." He handed the evidence bag over to the amused detectives. His face was mournful as he examined again the damage done to the exhibit. "This is a disaster. I won't able to go to the station for a few days, maybe a week. I'll get the copy then." 

"Don't threaten us, Sandburg." Joel joked. "A few weeks without you to do his paperwork and he'll be a bear to work with. Hey, looks like the forensics team is about finished. We'd better go give Cassie a hand." 

"If you need help, Chief, all you have to do is ask." Jim murmured quietly, as the two detectives walked away. 

"I'm begging, man. This is going to be hell." Blair whispered dispiritedly. 

"It can wait until you have the help you need. Let's get out of here." Silently, Jim turned his guide, ushering him past the destruction. 

* * *

  
852 Prospect Ave, Apt 307 

"Please, Detective Connor. I at least need to go home and get clean clothes," AJ wheedled the Australian. She watched the other woman closely and knew that she was about to yield. "I am *not* wearing either Ellison's or Sandburg's clothes. They already treat me like a kid sister, that would be the last straw." 

"All right, don't get in a wicket. I yield to your persuasion." The older woman laughed, raising her hands in surrender. "Call me Megan." 

"AJ." She pulled on her parka and stood, waiting patiently by the loft door. She already had the woman's cooperation and she didn't want to antagonize her. 

"Right-o. Shall we, AJ?" Both women smiled in unison and walked out the door. 

Rainier University Apartments 

They had barely entered the door when the phone rang. They looked at each other, grimaced and walked over to stand beside the answering machine. Megan pulled out a five and held it up with a question on her face. AJ shook her head and held up a ten. As one, they spoke a name, " Ellison." 

A rough voice began speaking to the answering machine. AJ grinned and grabbed the phone. "Hello." 

"What are you doing there?" 

"Packing my overnight bag?" She asked him, trying not to laugh aloud. 

"You should have stayed at the loft until I could take you to the apartment." The sentinel sounded tired. Beyond that he seemed worried about something, distracted. "Is Connor still with you?" 

"Of course. What happened? Is Blair okay? What about the others, Taggart and Brown? Weren't they at the museum?" Her voice cracked as she tensed, trying to read the older man's tone. If something had happened to Blair, she'd lose it. Megan straightened, her smile disappearing as she heard the younger woman's panic. 

"Take it easy, kid. They're all fine." Jim's voice became soothing over the phone line. "We found a body at the museum and it was a bad scene." 

"Where?" AJ felt her face pale; she really didn't want to know. She didn't want to confirm her fears. If she was right she knew who was next on the list to die. To prevent that from happening, she would have no choice but to give up everything she'd ever wanted. 

"Hold on a moment." Ellison passed the phone over to someone, whispering words she could not quite hear. 

"AJ?" Blair's voice came on over the line. "It was at the Aztec diorama. I'm not certain, but I think the message was for me and Jim." 

"What did it say, Blair?" AJ sat slowly on the edge of a chair, grabbing a pencil and paper. She never noticed as Megan placed a hand on her shoulder, instinctively trying to comfort her. 

Blair slowly read off several characters from the wall and the display. AJ listened carefully, taking notes rapidly and sketching the hieroglyphs. After a moment, she sat quietly, staring at the figures on the paper. Absently, she kept writing as she finished the unfinished sequence, underscoring it heavily. Then she looked down and realized what she'd written. 

"Blair, please put Jim back on the phone." She quietly interrupted the anthropologist. 

"Enqueri. It was a formal sacrifice of the Hijos del Sol. The first major sacrifice of a series, to prepare the world for the return of the sun. The next will be in six days. Have them look for a tattoo on his left arm, a golden sun surrounded by red dots. If it's there, then he was killed by the Cult. Was the victim male, about 24-30, built like a warrior?" The young woman stood and began pacing the length of the phone cord. She looked off into the distance, not seeing the wall in front of her. 

"Yes." Jim's terse reply was what she expected. 

She took a deep breath and slowly released it. Now came the hard part. "OK. IF they follow the pattern, the next person will be a religious or shamanic person. To keep the ceremony intact it would be best for there to be some sort of connection between the sacrificial victims, but that's not necessary. At this point it does not matter if the sacrifices are willing or forced. That means that you cannot let Sandburg go *anywhere* without an escort of some type. He's exactly what they would be looking for if they don't already have the next victim." She closed her eyes and spoke the words she dreaded to say. "There's a real good chance they already have their next sacrifice, but I have to check before I can tell you if Blair's safe." 

Beside her, Megan stirred, listening closely to AJ's words. Her eyes widened as she realized their import. Although the Australian officer had once thought that Ellison was psychic, she'd never considered the fact that his partner was anything more than his guide. She had to admit that the idea of Blair being a shaman easily fit what she knew about the younger man. Megan nodded thoughtfully to herself… she was definitely going to have to finish reading the Burton manuscripts. 

"Fortaleza." Ellison growled. He could hear Megan behind her and he wasn't happy about the fact that the other officer now knew about his partner's shamanic abilities. It was enough that the Australian knew about Jim's sentinel abilities. "We'll talk about this later tonight." 

"No. You need to keep your attention on protecting him. You consider him to be a 'trouble magnet', so you don't need me there too. They will try for him in the next three days because the sacrifice has to be purified for three days before the event. You take care of your Shaman." 

"You agreed to stay at the loft if any trouble came up." Jim was growing tired of arguing with her and was beginning to lose his temper… his voice growing colder and angrier as he spoke. "You are one of the targets. 

"That was before this. Not now. Your duty is to the shaman first, tribe second. I need to research some things about this and Sandburg doesn't have what I need at the loft. I'll make arrangements for someone to stay with me here." AJ pulled several books down from the shelves and began laying them on the dining table. As she sat down, she grabbed her pen and a notebook. She understood his reasoning but she couldn't let him bully her into obedience. It would only risk them. "Anyway, if they could have taken me at the museum. By tradition they cannot force me to join them. They cannot steal me. They cannot drug me. I'm safe as long as they can't coerce me. That means you have to keep yourself and Blair safe. To be able to do that you need to be able to focus and I'm a distraction. Tell me I'm wrong, Enqueri." 

The sentinel sighed over the line, knowing she was right. From the moment she'd said Sandburg was a possible candidate for the next victim, all of his senses had gone to full alert. He thought frantically, wanting to keep her under control as much as possible. "AJ, put Megan on the line." 

AJ sighed and handed the phone to the Australian officer. As the detective began speaking, she tuned out the two voices and opened her books. It only took a few words before she was lost, researching the pictographs from the museum wall. Between the open books and the search she initiated on her laptop, it took Megan quite an effort to drag her back long enough to accept the phone. 

"Hmm?" she murmured, pen gliding smoothly over the notebook. 

"Look, Megan agreed to stay with you tonight. Tomorrow we can make arrangements for—" Jim explained patiently. 

"No." AJ interrupted. "I am not without my own resources. How many times do I have to tell you I'm safe from them? Megan will be leaving shortly and I'll lock up." 

"Listen to me." The taut undercurrent of anger in Jim's voice made the young woman pull the phone away from her ear. "I want to know that you're safe." 

"Fine. I'll make my own arrangements but I am not going to let you dictate my life." She rubbed her temple thoughtfully. "I'll call someone I'm sure can protect me if necessary. Is that good enough?" 

"Fortaleza." Ellison's voice made her wince. "Rafe won't be able to get there until late." 

"I'll be safe. Take care of Blair. See you as soon as I have more information for you." AJ hung up the phone, not noticing the stunned look on Megan's face or the strained voice still talking at her over the line. As soon as she disconnected the line, she began dialing a number from memory. When the voice mail answered, she hissed in frustration, but her voice went soft when she left her message on Rafe's answering machine. "Hey, you. It's me. I need to talk to you. Call me as soon as you can." 

Megan cleared her throat. "Listen, AJ... maybe..." 

AJ didn't even look up. "No. I really have a lot of work to do and so do you. You need to get back to the station. I'll lock the doors and stay home. No ordering food delivered. No walks through the snow. Just me, the books, and my computer until Rafe gets here." 

"Jim doesn't usually overreact. If he thinks you're in danger, you are." 

"Fine, he may very well be right. But I don't have to obey him." She stood and walked to the bookshelf. Stretching, she pulled down a blowpipe and a quiver of darts. She laid them down on the table beside her books. A set of throwing knives soon joined them. "No one will be able to get at me. Go back to work, Megan." 

Megan started to protest when her cell phone rang. She answered it reflexively. "Connor... Yes, sir. Yes, she's right here." 

AJ rolled her eyes and took the phone. "Hello, Capítan Banks... No, I do not want police protection; in fact I refuse it... No, sir, I will not go to the loft." She paused and listened. "Are you threatening to place me in forced protective custody? But I saw nothing... I remember nothing. Yes, sir, I would definitely be a hostile witness. Thank you, sir." 

She handed the phone back to Megan. The other woman listened momentarily and sighed. "Yes, sir. But you get to tell Ellison she refused." 

AJ stood and walked the detective to the door. "Have a good afternoon, Megan. If Jim yells at you too much, have him call me." 

"I'll take you up on that." Megan smiled at her as she slipped out the door. "Lock up, okay?" 

"No problem." 

* * *

  
Rainier University Apartments, 7 p.m. 

Rafe quietly let himself into the apartment, blessing his skill with lock picks. The living room was dark, all the curtains pulled closed. Frowning, he closed the door behind him and relocked it, hooking the chain thoughtfully. He'd never seen the place when it wasn't well lit or with the curtains open for Kyrie to enjoy the view. Reflexively, he pulled his gun from its holster as he noted the untidy pile of books and papers on the table. This was definitely out of character. Then the sound of muted laughter came from the back room. He followed it, returning the gun to its accustomed place under his jacket. 

The sight that met his eyes was enchanting. Kyrie sat on the bed, wrapped in a gossamer robe, facing away from him. She held the telephone to her ear with one hand, while slowly pulling a wooden comb through her wet hair with the other. Scented candles cast a soft light from her dresser, throwing flickering shadows across the room. 

"I'll be fine. No, I do not want to go there... No, I don't want company." The other person kept her silent for a long moment. "Well, actually, if you want the truth, I can hear Rafe in the doorway. No, I won't change my mind. No. Yes, I'll see you tomorrow." 

The next exchange made her laugh. As she was laughing, she saw him in the mirror and smiled. Rafe walked across the few feet that separated them and knelt beside her on the bed. His hand was gentle as he ran it across her cheek, enjoying the softness and the way she leaned into his palm. He took the comb from her hand and laid it down, kissing her neck as he did so. 

"I really need to go now. That does it!" Her voice rose slightly as she teased the person on the other end. "Look, what I want is for Enqueri to drag you out and feed you. I know you. You've been working on the museum and forgot to eat again. Yes, those are definitely direct orders! Good night, dear heart!" She laughed again as she hung up the phone. 

"Hello, love." Kyrie turned, whispering, as she kissed his palm. "I've missed you." 

"I missed you, too." He barely got the words out before his mouth dipped down to meet hers. There was no hesitation between them. His hands cupped her jaw, tilting her head for better access. Her lips parted under his assault, allowing his tongue to dive into her welcoming mouth. Kyrie's hands tugged on his shoulders, pulling him down onto the bed. With a soft sigh, she curled her body into his. 

Reluctantly, he pulled back, watching her face as he did. Slowly her eyes opened. They watched him curiously as he sat up, pulling her up as well. His fingers lingered on her shoulder before creeping up to her cheek. 

"How's your headache?" He murmured quietly. She shrugged and they both chuckled as her stomach protested loudly. "Sounds like I need to feed you, sweetheart." 

Kyrie rubbed her cheek against his fingertips and grinned impishly. She looked him over and raised an eyebrow. "Is that really what you want to do, Rafe?" 

"It is. Do you like Chinese? I know a great place that delivers." 

"I love good Chinese." If he wanted her to behave herself, she would. Kyrie wanted him, but she would not ruin what they had found together, so she would let him take the lead. She wanted to enjoy every moment of time that she had with him. She stood and walked towards the closet, but his hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. 

Rafe stood, gently pulling her hand until she was standing next to him. He ran his fingers across her cheek, whispering softly as he did, "I want to go very slow, love. I want everything to be perfect. We both deserve it to be perfect." 

Kyrie raised her own hands to his cheeks. Slowly she let her fingers trace his jaw line, feeling the first edges of the beard appearing there. She met his eyes as she whispered. "It already is perfect." 

He dipped his head to meet her lips. The moment they touched, the hunger that he'd been keeping at bay raised its head. He let his lips caress hers, his tongue tracing the line where her lips met. Her tongue met his, dancing and tangling with his. She rose on her toes trying to melt into his skin. It took a concerted effort for him to pull back. His eyes wandered over her body, taking in the curves that the glowing candlelight softly accented. His voice was husky as he led her out of the room. "Almost perfect, love. Right now you're recovering from the drugs on the darts as well as hitting your head on that wall. I won't take advantage of that. We'll make it perfect later, when there aren't any extenuating circumstances." 

* * *

  
Rainier University Apartments, 17 November, 4:15 am 

Rafe wasn't quite sure what woke him. He opened his eyes cautiously, trying to figure out where he was when he heard the quiet murmur of a voice. He had gone to sleep on Kyrie's couch around midnight. He glanced at his watch before standing to peer into the bedroom. He saw Kyrie speaking into a small handheld tape recorder. 

"Same dream only more detailed," she whispered, eyes closed. "If this is a premonition, I wish I could see enough to know where and when. If it isn't, I wish it would go away. I'm not sure which is worse. The knowing or not knowing." 

Curious, Rafe watched her, barely able to see her in the dim light streaming through the window. The young woman was sitting on a small mat beside the bed, her hair draped around her like a shawl. Only the whispered words gave any indication that she wasn't deep in a trance. 

"...the room is full, mixed believers and non-believers. They haven't drugged them. Their fear, it rises off them and clouds the room. One of the faces, I know it. I'll have to double check my class roster to see if I can put a name to the face." Her voice caught suddenly. "If this is premonition, Zel is in Cascade, somewhere. But I don't know how much longer he'll be alive. I can't see enough to know which ceremony is being performed. The only thing I'm sure of... they have the rest of the knives. Not the king knife, but all the others. I can see them, laid out in display. They have a silver thing where the king knife goes. I don't know what it is. I couldn't see it well enough. When I tried to focus, to force the dream, I woke. One other note. I saw the high priest. It was Mattheson. If that's correct and not just my dislike of the man, the entire mission is a scrub. I still haven't figured out how to warn anyone without breaking the court orders on the subject. I've alerted the only other person I know who might be able to do something. But I don't know if that's enough. I hate this. Silence Two. 17 November." 

Rafe closed his eyes as Kyrie thumbed off the recorder. To him her words sounded almost like a briefing or a report to someone. Even with all they'd gone through, it was obvious she was still not telling him, or Jim and Blair, everything. He listened as she stood and began to pace. A faint crackling sound made him open his eyes. She was spreading out a well worn map, studying it intently. After a moment she marked in red ink the museum. It stood out against the pale green highlighted areas. On the other side of the map, red ink marked the foundry site. Then she turned to face him. 

"Hi." Kyrie's voice was sad as she watched him. 

Rafe's voice was rough, as he stared at the woman kneeling by the mat. He glanced around the room, looking for something, anything to explain what was going on. "What are you hiding from us?" 

Kyrie folded her hands and looked away. "Go ahead and search the apartment. There is nothing hidden here. Anything you find I'll explain, as much as I can." 

"Kyrie." He sighed, crouching near her, his fingers lightly tracing the highlighted area of the map. Then he tapped the tape recorder. "What is all of this?" 

Bright eyes, more silver than green in the faint light, glanced from one item to the other. She shrugged nonchalantly. "The tape recorder is how I keep track of true dreams. I normally record them if I remember them. Since Blair ordered me to stop drinking the preventative this morning, I'm trying to remember what I dream." 

"Do you normally remember your dreams?" 

"Only the very bad ones and only some of them." She frowned. "I rarely remember more than 7 or 8 in a year. The watchman I happened to be traveling with would normally record them for me." 

"And the map?" Rafe prompted, shoving the information into the back of his mind to be considered later. "What is it for?" 

"To track where I've been. Places I've checked for signs of the Children of the Sun." She stretched in place, eyes watching him curiously. "Do I need to turn it over to you?" 

He shook his head, studying the dates written on the highlighted areas. "No. If I need the information, I'll ask. Who is Mattheson?" 

Kyrie pulled back, eyes quickly becoming shuttered. "I can't answer that. I'm sorry." 

"If it's important to finding the cult, you have to tell me who Mattheson is." 

"I can't talk about him. It's classified." 

"Classified? What does that have to do with your 'mission'? Whom are you really working for?" Rafe almost wished he didn't have to ask. 

"The first questions I cannot answer. As for whom do I work for, well, I work for the university." 

"That's not what I'm asking about and you know it." Rafe kept his voice even – trying to avoid letting his frustration show. He let his eyes trace the pattern penciled on the map. It finally clicked. He thought back to the conversation at Ellison's loft and another puzzle piece fell into place. "You've been quartering and searching Cascade. From the looks of it you started right after arriving. You said you were trying to get information for us… I know Jim's source volunteered the information he got Friday, so I bet that came from one of the people you contacted. That means you work for one of the alphabet agencies." 

"I don't work for one of your 'alphabet' agencies." A grin quickly crossed her face as Kyrie responded to his comment. When he began to speak, she shook her head, the smile fading. "I have never worked for any government agency or department. I may have helped them with something, but I'm not on anyone's payroll." 

"Who is Silence Two?" 

"I am." The resignation in her voice took Rafe's full attention from the map to her face and the fear that he saw there shook him. 

"You can't talk about it, can you?" The discomfort in her eyes and the rigid way she held her shoulders told him the answer to his question. Rafe understood her reaction. He'd been where she was right now, not knowing how far she could trust someone with the truth and having to find ways to avoid revealing confidential information. "You told me you'd answer my questions – at least as far as you were able. I understand more than you think." He smiled ruefully at her pained expression. Deciding that he didn't want to spend the rest of night talking to her on the floor, he stood and extended his hand. "Come on, we may as well get comfortable for this." 

She kept her face expressionless as she let him draw her to her feet. Rafe wondered what was going on behind the mask she was showing him. Whatever it was, he knew he was going to have to steer the conversation very carefully to avoid all the traps and pitfalls he knew were out there, for both of them. He settled himself comfortably against the headboard, pulling her down to sit next to him. 

"You've been more than patient," Rafe began, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Kyrie half turned, her eyes meeting his curiously. He didn't want to dredge up his past – it was a painful, unhealed wound, a subject he avoided at all costs. But how could he push Kyrie for answers about her past if he hid his past from her? "You've told me stories about the people you've met and were raised among. But you never asked about my past. I've seen the questions in your eyes when I change the subject or stop in mid-sentence." 

"Bri, you don't have to—" Kyrie's words went silent, as Rafe's fingers covered her lips. 

"Yes, I do. If we want this to work, both of us need to stop keeping secrets. It may be painful, but it's necessary. You told me most of your history. It's time I told you mine." With a quick mental prayer for strength, Rafe began, uncomfortably aware of her steady gaze. "My family wasn't the best. In South Africa we aren't hailed as evil, but we aren't considered respectable either. My father's family… the O'Raferty family is still pretty well connected arms dealers and information brokers. My mother's family, the Van Holdens, isn't as bad, but it's pretty close. They were married as part of an alliance. All of us worked for the family interests – and we started young. My parents became disenchanted with the rest of the family after Grandfather's death -- I was fourteen. My uncle, Veiden and his son, Andrew Thomas, inherited the leadership of the family business. They are cold men, Kyrie, the kind that have no remorse for any of the things they do. Within a year, the O'Raferty family went from being arms dealers to supplying weapons to terrorists and worse." 

He closed his eyes, feeling the pain of that summer so long ago. "Da decided we were going to make a break with the family. That's part of why I married Angela so young. I wasn't going to leave her behind for Andrew Thomas and the others. But they knew. Andrew left a message for everyone to see… one that no one could mistake. The flames had already claimed most of the house. My uncle James kept me from running into the house. He got me out of Langebaan. We barely out ran the people hunting us. For over two years we ran from one brush fire war to another. Until my Da's contact with the US government finally tracked us down." 

"We bought our way into the US with the information we gave Interpol and the CIA." Rafe grinned at the memory. "My Da, he had me memorize a list of every police, Interpol, MI-5, and CIA agent the O'Raferty clan owned. It felt so good to turn that information over to them. Uncle James thought I was mad to give them the whole list at once but I did. The next day I was on a military flight to DC with a new identity and a future. Most importantly, I had a goal, a reason to stay alive. I wanted to stop people like Viener and Andrew Thomas, before they became too dangerous to handle easily. Uncle James got himself a position as a tracker for the US Marshals service and I went to college to get my criminal justice degree." 

"So you became a policeman to stop them." 

"I didn't want to join the big agencies." He watched as thoughts seemed to flash across Kyrie's face. 

"You were allowed the choice." 

She seemed so far away that it puzzled him. "What do you mean?" 

"I've always done what I was assigned." Kyrie's voice was wistful. "I get to my assigned place, gathered information, learn what I can, turn it over to the proper people, and then get a new assignment. Because of who and what I am – I am placed in the most advantageous spot available. I've never had a choice." 

She smiled up at him – a sad, half lost smile. "Even when I was little, I had my assigned place. First as Zel's 'ward', later as a valuable tool for befriending the locals, and finally as a tool of its own strength. If I'm not gathering information for someone, I'm gathering allies for Walks Through or I'm training for something else." 

Rafe was silent. The pain in her unguarded eyes caught him by surprise. For the first time, she wasn't hiding anything. He found himself whispering, "If you had a choice, what would you do?" 

"If I were free… no debts to honor, nothing held over my head, no one able to show up and order me to obey?" She shifted uneasily. "I don't know. I was handed over to Zel as part of some old debt for him to repay. I overheard his instructions – he was to keep us alive and south of the border. He taught me everything I know, but I don't know if that is what I want to be. I am trained for one thing… and everything I was taught was to help me be better at it. Until I met you, it never occurred to me that I could have friends who expected nothing more than my friendship. I never expected to be able to have a real life." 

"What about Jim and Blair?" The depth of her belief in what she was saying startled him. 

"I was assigned to Blair and he was assigned to keep an eye on me." Her chuckle was bitter. "If not for that, Jim would have found a way to keep Blair as far from me as possible. He would have taken one look at me and seen a threat. Instead, he couldn't argue with the Dean's assignment and by the time he decided I was dangerous, Chopec law made me safe." 

"Kyrie, Jim isn't that bad!" Rafe shook his head in disbelief. He wasn't sure why she was so convinced, but he knew better. From his observation, Jim Ellison didn't treat obligation the way he treated Kyrie. In fact, he knew from the warning phone call he'd gotten earlier that evening that Jim and Blair both considered her family. He just didn't know how to convince her of it. 

"Isn't he?" She shook her head at him. "No one threatens Blair, not even by accident. Even among your fellow police officers, how many openly disparage him? Would they dare?" As he nodded his understanding, she smiled again. "All my life, I have been accepted because of my acquaintances or because of my status. I've heard the whispers, 'That's Silence Two, shut up and make friends or the others will leave you in Injun country.' 'Don't you know who that kid is? That's Zelinski's kid… get the kid on your good side and you've got it made.' 'This is the sagrada come to us from the Walks Through Tribe, you will be her sister while she is here.' And when they thought I couldn't hear them, I'd hear the complaints about having to accept me as one of them. And then I came to Cascade and literally ran into you. For the first time, it didn't matter who I knew, to whom I was connected, or what I was. You wanted to get to know me – because you wanted to meet me. Beyond the normal," and here Kyrie winked at him mischievously, "physical attraction, there was no reason for you to want to meet me. And nothing scared or shook you off." 

"What about your friends, Kyr?" Rafe couldn't let this go, he knew there had to be someone who had been her friend. "What about your students? Don't they count?" 

"I earned their friendship, Brian. The hard way, through war, trial, pain, and blood. I can trust them at my back. I have people I will fight for because that is my promise, my debt to them." She looked away. "Most are my friends due to a debt owed, a debt given, or blood spilled. My tribes are mine only because I am their sagrada – someone who only the watchmen and shaman dare befriend lest they join her on the altar. They are my people and will fight for me. I know their names and their children's names, but I don't know what they like to do or who they are. The students -- I'm their teacher, their mentor. I can't let them get close or they become targets. I can't risk their friendship." 

"I'm not here because of a debt or blood, Kyrie. And you can't chase me away to protect me." Rafe tilted her head with his hand, making her meet his eyes. The sadness in the silvery green eyes drew him and he stopped resisting it. He leaned forward, his lips not quite touching hers as he whispered, "I'm here because I want to be here. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow." 

Kyrie's eyes grew dark as she drew him closer. "I believe you," she murmured, her lips sealing the unspoken promise between them. 

* * *

  
Storm Page   
Storm Chapter 11 


	12. Hurricane Warnings

The Storm Chapter 11

Hurricane Warnings

The Cascade Museum of Natural History, 18 November, 7:15 am.

"I won't be kept out of my exhibit."  The furious voice echoed through the hall and made the sentinel wince.  He quickly dialed down his hearing, but not before hearing the rest of her words. "I don't care who or why or what excuse, I will finish this on time.  So do whatever you have to do, but get them out of my way."

"What is it, big guy?"  Blair had seen the dismay that flickered across the other man's face and knew it meant trouble.

"Rafe and AJ are here and she is a little upset."  Jim murmured as they turned a corner. They could see the yellow tape and the two unhappy looking uniformed officers blocking the entrance to the Etterman wing.  As soon as they turned the corner, AJ looked up.  Jim sighed, "Well, lets go see how angry she is."

"Jim. Blair."  Rafe grinned wryly at them as they approached.  "I hope you had coffee before coming out here."

"That bad?"  Blair fought to keep from chuckling as he saw the expression on the other man's face. He looked down the hall to where Fortaleza was pacing as she spoke into her cell phone.  "Well, it looks like she's recovered from her concussion."

"Nope and it's made her as grouchy as bear."  The young detective took a long sip from the Styrofoam cup in his hand.  "She won't take any pain killers and all she wants to do is finish this exhibit on time."

"Won't be possible." Jim responded curtly as he ducked under the police tape and into the exhibit hall.  "This place will be off limits until the investigation is over."

"Policia." The one-word hiss was enough to make all of them turn to face the angry green eyes.  

"Kyrie, we have to be sure we've gotten all the information we need to stop the killers."  Rafe watched her warily, wondering if she was about to completely lose her temper on them.            "There are a lot of things that still need to be checked for fingerprints – it could take days."

"There will be no fingerprints, no clues."  Fortaleza closed her eyes, one hand rising to lightly touch the bruise on her temple.  She leaned gratefully on Rafe as he pulled her to his side. "They wore gloves… black, heavy gloves.  All of them looked alike, the same clothes and hats. Even the ones painting on the wall wore black gloves."

The three men looked at each other and then back to her.  No one had told her where they had found the writing.  In fact, they had told her it was at the diorama. 

"Did you see their faces?" Jim asked, wondering how he had managed to forget to interview her about the scene.  He made a note to remind himself to follow procedures when he knew the victim.

"No.  No faces."  She turned her back to them. "They were the painted ones.  They don't have faces."

"Painted ones?" Blair shot her a worried look.  "The temple guardians?"

She nodded, still looking away.  After a moment, she turned around.  "I only saw the paint, not them."

"They were wearing masks, Jim.  I can get you pictures of the masks they would have been wearing."  The anthropologist explained before the detective could ask.  He started to say something else, but was silenced by the shrill ring of Jim's cell phone.  A moment later, the look the sentinel shot Fortaleza made him decide he wasn't going to say a word.  Especially as she began smiling triumphantly.

Major Crimes Bullpen, 17 November 8:30 am.

"So, when were you going to tell us?" Henri Brown leaned against the desk, watching his partner curiously.  "Why all the secrecy?"

Rafe flushed at the mild reproach in the big man's voice.  He'd barely had enough time to realize how badly this was going to affect his partner.   But that wasn't enough time to find a way to explain it or to figure out how to defuse the situation.  He sighed and began trying to convince his partner that it had all been unintentional.  "It wasn't… I didn't…" he paused at the pained look in Henri's eyes.

Henri was disappointed in his partner.  He knew Brian was shy, sometimes evasively so.  But in the years since the young South African man had become his friend and partner, he'd never been treated quite like this.  "Look, if you're embarrassed by my –"

"No!"  Brian interrupted him sharply.  "It's not that! Kyrie is terrified of cops."

"What?"  Henri hadn't expected that.  How on earth could Bri's lady be afraid of police officers, especially is she was Jim's relative?  He couldn't believe his partner was trying to lie about the whole situation.  "Come on, bro.  If you're going to make excuses, you'll have to come up with a better one than that."

"It's the truth."  Jim Ellison's voice came softly from behind him.  Henri turned to see a grim faced Ellison studying his coffee cup.  "She refused to come anywhere near me for almost two months because of it."

Henri looked from detective to another, trying to figure out exactly what was going on.  Both men wore the same somber expression.  "Why?"

Brian looked away and shook his head.  "You don't want to know, H.  You really don't."

Jim immediately focused his attention on the younger detective.  "She told you?  I've guessed but she's refused to explain it."

Rafe's hazel eyes were haunted when he looked at the other detectives.  "I can understand her refusal to talk about it."  He caught the calculating look in the senior detective's eyes and decided he didn't want to go through a full interrogation, especially seeing as he still wasn't sure how to handle the fact that Kyrie didn't fully trust Ellison. "Let's just say she ran into a couple of crooked cops."

Jim's face tightened and he nodded sharply. He knew Rafe wasn't telling him everything.  For now, he could let it go. "Well, that explains some things," he murmured.  "I wondered why there was so much information missing from her files.  If the feds knew crooked cops were behind the accident that orphaned her, it only makes sense that they deleted all reference to it."

"Wait a minute," Henri protested, his mind racing through the information that he knew.  "I thought Blair said she's Jim's little sister."

Ellison grinned ruefully, knowing he was going to have some explaining to do.  "In a way.  The tribe that adopted me in Peru – the Chopec – also adopted her.  Due to the circumstances of the time, we never met.  I heard a lot of stories about her and when she returned to the tribe after I came back to the US she heard about me."

"So, Rafe here is dating your kid sister?"  Henri began smiling as the ramifications became clear to him.  Oh, he could milk this little bit of information for a long time. "That's going to make life interesting."

"Nah.  I trust Brian with AJ."  Jim smiled and the other men in the room shivered at the predatory gleam in his eyes.  "I won't be getting any calls about misbehavior, will I?"

"No."  Brian answered quickly – too quickly.  Around the bullpen the detectives who had quietly been listening in on the conversation began chuckling. 

Henri laughed openly at the embarrassed expression on his partner's face.  The day was starting off to be a wonderful one.  Now all he had to do was find a way to get Brian and his lady friend over for dinner.  He just knew Sherri would want to meet the girl.

"Gentlemen?"  Captain Banks strode into the bullpen followed by Joel Taggart.  "Let's take this to the conference room."

Megan Connor met them at the door of the conference room.  "It's ready, sir."

"Thank you, Connor."  Captain Banks acknowledged as they entered.  He nodded his approval when he saw the carefully drawn diagrams on the far wall.    Serena Chang and Dan Wolfe nodded to him as they looked up from their discussion.  He waited patiently as his detectives grabbed chairs.  A moment later, several other detectives straggled into the room.  It wasn't often that he called all of his detectives in for a meeting.  But the information that was turning up warranted it.  

Three shifts – he wondered how he had managed to get a department that encompassed three full shifts of detectives.  But he knew the answer to that.  When Jim Ellison's senses had become active, Banks had known that the All Mighty was only giving him an edge against the crime was coming.  And they had stood their ground, but at a high cost.  High enough to make the powers that be notice and step in – giving him a larger budget, more detectives, better forensic equipment.  And with each improvement, the job seemed to change to push their limits again.  

With a mental shake, Simon turned his attention back to this meeting.  "Good morning, people.  As of this moment, the murders in the foundry, the drowning at the Cascade Reservoir, and the murder at the museum have become our highest priority.   All information on these cases is restricted and the files stay under lock and key."  The quiet murmur of disbelief showed that his people understood what these measures meant.  "We do not want a panic and the population is already on edge thanks to the news reports on Friday. There will be no release of any of this information… to anyone outside the room.  As far as the rest of the PD is concerned, we've got another serial killer on our hands."

"Since the beginning of October we've had two confirmed ritual or cult sacrifices and another two or three possible sacrifices."  Simon didn't have to look at his people to know their reaction to that announcement.   He knew the doodlers had just frozen and the ones who were half asleep, simply absorbing their superior's current diatribe had come to attention.   The mere words 'cult sacrifice' were enough to bring terror into the heart of civilians much less the detectives.  "We need to work fast to get the situation under control and stop the murders.  Serena and Dan are both going to be hand delivering their reports to us to help keep leaks to a minimum.  No files leave this room – for any reason.  And I want all of you to keep the information as quiet as possible."

  
At Simon's gesture, Serena stood and placed a file on the table.  She took a quick breath and began her presentation.  "So far every single victim has been drugged before they were killed.  With the exception of the children at the reservoir, they were all conscious and realized what was happening when they died. The bad news is that the drugs used on the adults were mainly hallucinogens, specifically chosen to heighten sensation.  They felt every bit of the torture they received."  Several detectives paled and all of them looked uncomfortable at the news.  

"There were a total of fifty seven victims at the foundry. We've identified four groupings of eight to twelve sacrifices that all fall into the same type of sacrifice."  She turned to the diagram and pointed to the largest group of bodies, labeled 'A'.  "The victims of Group 'A' were all killed on an altar of unknown origins, the markings on both the victims bodies and the altar seem to be European, we're looking for confirmation.  Victims of Group 'B' were all killed using methods that are very reminiscent of Aztec sacrifices."  She looked down at her notes and looked at the group of detectives staring at her.  " The deaths in Groups 'C' and 'D' are completely different from the others.  The other seventeen victims were all individual sacrifices, matching no pattern we've found so far.  The first one died over a month before they were discovered, but thanks to the fact that the body was preserved, we're not sure of the exact date.  The last one to die," she pointed to a body on the far side of the foundry, " died no more than twenty minutes before the first unit arrived at the site."

Several curses rang through the room.  She raised her eyebrows and waited for a moment.  "Five teenagers, all young members of the Dueces were skipping school when they thought they saw something at the foundry.  It's in the area they consider their territory, so they decided to check it out."  Detectives around the room nodded their understanding.  "They saw the bodies and got out as fast as they could.  When they got to the phone booth, they called Earl Gaines, but there were only four teens at that point.  Sometime between seeing the bodies at point 'A' and running the three blocks to the phone, Carlos Mayfield vanished.  He hasn't turned up since then.  And I don't think we'll find him alive, not if the killers caught him."

"Killers?"  Lance MacArthur asked quietly.  "How many do you think are involved?"

Serena shook her head and glanced at Dan.  The forensic pathologist shrugged.  "At least five, possibly more.  The victims were held down during the sacrifices, but as far as we can tell only two were tied down.  The bruising indicates one person holding each limb… four people plus the one wielding the knife."  

She gestured to the TV/VCR set up in the corner.  "We are not the only ones interested in this case, either.  We set up surveillance, just to see if any of the killers returned.  Unfortunately, no one thought to check the tapes until early this morning.  They were just pulled and labeled. Cassie and I found this pretty interesting.  I had our tape wiz clip all the cameras' tape together so you could see this." 

At her signal, Dan flicked off the main light.  The screen came to life, showing the dim interior of the foundry.  As the clock on the bottom of the screen ticked away seconds, a chain hanging loosely in front of the camera began to sway.  A moment later, a dark boot appeared, followed by a black clad figure.  The thick bulk of Kevlar and Gortex body armor made the figure appear bulky and slow moving, but from experience everyone in the room knew the person was carrying a lot of extra weight.  A black baklava and a pair of night vision goggles hid all the facial features.  

"Professional equipment."  Someone murmured quietly as the tape switched to a different view.  The figure was landing on the floor, pulling a camera from the pack attached to his back.  With swift, economical moves, the camera was assembled – lens attachments and an oddly dim light clipped to it.  

"Black light?" another detective asked.

"Yes."  Serena replied.  "High speed film, fast shutter speed and a black light – he knew what he was looking for."

In silence the group watched as the figure moved swiftly across the foundry floor.  Stopping at the site of the largest group of sacrifices, he pulled out a compass and noted the location of the altar.  Once that was done, the figure began moving quickly and surely from item to item in the area, photographing the altar from all sides as well as all the markings on the walls and floor.   

The same occurred at each of the group sites.  Each was checked on the compass before being photographed, but at a pace that suggested that the figure knew exactly what he was looking at.  Every mark, whether made by the police or by the killers was photographed.  

Then the figure froze, crouching near a doorway.  For the first time he seemed thrown off by something he saw.  A dim light sprang into being, coming from a tiny wrist mounted penlight.  It focused on something for a long moment before clicking off.  With practiced ease, the old film was removed from the camera and a new canister was added.  Immediately, the camera came up and something was photographed.  The figure quickly retraced his steps, slower, more cautiously.  It was obvious that whatever had caused the figure to stop had deeply disturbed him.   Several more times, the wrist light came on and focused on something the surveillance cameras couldn't see.  After each dim flicker of light, the cameraman shot several frames of film.

Suddenly the figure stopped, head turning towards the door.  Then the black clad figure darted away.  The tape flickered to show a pair of uniformed police officers entering the main area.  Bright beams of light from their mag-lights lit the floor near them.  They crossed the room, carefully avoiding the markings on the floor.  A slight movement behind one of the many altars was the only clue to the figure's position.  One of the officers paused, moving closer to the figure before being called away by his partner.  Finally, several long minutes, the two officers left, locking the door behind them.  

Only after they were gone the figure stood, watching the doorway thoughtfully before turning back to his work.  He made a careful third circuit of the room before stopping at the only unused altar.  For the first time, the figure touched something.  A gloved first came down on the altar.  The sheer swiftness and violence of that move made all the detectives in the room jump.  The figure leaned on the altar, shoulders shaking for a long moment.  Then he stood and walking over to the chain that had provided his ladder, climbed out of the foundry.

"We didn't show you everything, just enough to give you an idea of what the photographer was doing.  He was in there for less than forty minutes.  Other than that one time, he didn't touch a single item.  And he knew exactly where our cameras were.  We found a set of photographs of the items that caught his interest taped to the wall under the main camera this morning."  Serena shook her head.  "I've already checked.  Only Officer Durham noticed anything unusual during the patrols over the weekend.  No fingerprints were found on any of the tape, the envelope, or the photos.  Cassie is checking the entrances now."

"What caught his interest?"  Brian Rafe asked, trying to figure out what he'd seen on the gritty videotape.

Serena spread out a set of photographs.  "Glyphs on the walls, a set of stones at each of the entrance ways, a very small piece of broken volcanic rock, and a carving on one of the altars."

"Stones at the entrances?"  Jim was puzzled.  That reminded him of something.  He picked up the photographs and flipped through them until he came to the picture he wanted.  He stared at it, face growing paler than normal.

"Jim? What is it?"  Joel asked quietly, the other detectives watching him curiously.

"I've seen one of these before."  The sentinel pointed to the picture of a small painted stone lying against a doorframe.  When he spoke, it was hesitantly.  "Back when I was in Peru, that kind of stone marked forbidden areas.  Even the soldiers learned pretty quickly not to touch the things or to go into places marked with them."

"I was talking to Earl Gaines this morning and he had one like that.  They've been showing up all over Cascade."  Henri Brown shook his head in confusion.  "Earl says that the gangs are convinced that there's a new gang in town and those are their markers.  Anyone who messes with them ends up hurt."

Simon nodded. "I'll put a call in to the Gangs Unit to see if they can give us any information about the stones."

"I found one in or each of the bodies from the foundry."  Dan spoke up.  He frowned thoughtfully and added, "I found something like them worn around each of the kids in the overturned boat, too.  But there wasn't anything like either kind on or in the one from the museum."

"Well, that makes it pretty firm that we've had two sets cult murders so far and we already knew they were.  The third… well, it might just be coincidence, but I doubt it.  Dan, could you go over the autopsies on the other cases and check Mark's work – see if he missed something?"  The pathologist nodded grimly.  Simon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  Then he looked around, coming to a decision.  "I'm going to need all of you to put in a lot of overtime until we can stop these killers.  This is going to be a long hard case, people.  We've managed to get some information on the group behind the murders and I'm afraid we're going to find a lot more bodies before this is over.  From what little we've managed to gather, the Children of the Sun, as they are called, are an especially dangerous and elusive cult.  This is the first time they've struck in the United States.  They've struck in other places and once they move in, they won't be moving out – until they're done and ready to move on their own.  Ellison has copies of all the information our sources have been able to get us.  I don't want any rumors about the PD having anything on the killers.  Not a single word." The detectives looked at each other uneasily.  "When the feds get here, you say nothing, refer them to me, or Ellison."

The moment Simon said Ellison's name the rest of Major Crimes relaxed.  They knew the sources the top detective used were often classified and sometimes it was dangerous to just know the sources existed.  They wouldn't say anything to the FBI agents about Jim's ability to get information. 

"Joel, I want you and Grayson to meet the FBI, their flight arrives this afternoon. Meet them there, take them to the site."  Simon began rapping out orders.  "MacArthur, you and the bumble twins canvas the area around the foundry, see if you find any more of those stone."

"Whatever you do, don't touch them."  Ellison spoke up quietly.  "That would make you a target of the cult."

"Oh, no."  Serena murmured.  "I sent Cassie to bag them and bring them in."

"I'm on it."  Felicia Jean Sanders was out the door before anyone could argue.  As she grabbed her coat, she pulled her cell phone from its holster at her waist and dialed a number.     
  


The detectives looked at each other uneasily before turning their gazes back to Captain Banks.  The dark skinned man frowned, turning his attention back to the notes in front of him.  "MacArthur, Clouddancer, Sanjima, be very careful around those things.  If you see anything out of the ordinary, call it in and get your asses back here.  I don't want any dead detectives.  Ellison, see if Sandburg can come in and look at these pictures.  He might be able to give us some information on the cult.  Connor – I want you at the museum with Fortaleza, see if she's found anything out of place and keep Wells away from her.  I don't want dean calling the mayor again."

"If we can figure out where the Children of the Sun have planted their markers, we might be able to figure out their territory."  Rafe mused aloud.  He thought about Kyrie's map.  If he could get a copy of it, that would help.  "H and I could check with Gaines—"

"Earl would be glad to have someone else take on this one.  The gangs are getting really restless because of them."  Henri put in.  The fact that Brian had included him in talking to Gaines was a good sign. 

Simon nodded and looked around the room.  "The rest of you, I want you to go over every bit information we've got.  I want nothing missed."

As everyone began filing out of the room, Brian hung back and went to Dan Wolfe.  "Dan?"

"What's up, Rafe?"  The forensic pathologist was carefully putting his notes away.

"Have you gotten an id on the body from the museum?" 

There was a catch in the young man's voice that made Dan look up.  He wasn't sure what he saw in the hazel eyes, but it warned him of trouble.  "No, why?"

"I might have an idea.  Can I bring someone down to the morgue this afternoon?"  Rafe's voice was hesitant.

"Relative?"

"Maybe."  The younger man shrugged.  "If I can get her to come in the door… we'll see."

"I promise not bite."  Dan joked gently. 

"I'll tell her that."  Rafe replied, looking around and noticing that Ellison had already left and H was waiting for him.  Well, he'd talk to Ellison later.

§§§§§§

The Etterman Wing, Cascade Museum 

Blair Sandburg straightened with a groan.  His knees were about worn out from the painstaking work of separating artifacts.  He looked around the hall; pleased with the sheer amount of work the students had managed to get done.  

The torn display dividers were gone, removed by the bevy of workers. In their place, temporary rope and post railings separated the displays. AJ's meticulous photographs of the original displays were mounted on poster board and set on easels for easy reference.  The best and brightest anthropology students were in the process of recreating the displays.   

Her photography students were carefully observing the activities – not a single item was moved before it was photographed.  There was a silent competition between the archeology students – lured into volunteering with the promise of extra credit and letters of commendation – and the photojournalism students.  Each group knew the other didn't have any idea how to properly document the work being done, and each planned on proving it.  The stack of meticulously documented grid sheets and labeled film canisters was impressive.

"So how are you going to reset the guy wires?"  A student asked curiously from a nearby display.

Blair wrinkled his nose thoughtfully and looked around the area.  Even with all of the pedestals and false walls moved, the scaffolding that AJ had used before was not going to fit into the area.  Thoughtfully he looked up at the ceiling.  He couldn't remember if this area had easy access or not.  

"I'm not sure."  He admitted.  "Did you ask Ms. Fortaleza?"

"I haven't seen her in a while."  The young man replied as he carefully placed a delicate statue into a cushioned box.  He wrote out a label and affixed it to the side before sliding the box onto a rolling cart.  "She told me to finish boxing these – they're all damaged and need repairs.  That was about an hour ago."

The anthropologist nodded as he began scanning the area, looking for her.  He wasn't worried about her getting into trouble.  After all, Tony and Jacob were keeping an eye on her.  Blair had to fight off a satisfied grin – that had to be his greatest idea to date.  The two football players were among his best students and when he'd told them where AJ came from they'd been fascinated.  It hadn't taken much to get them to agree that the anthropologist-cum-photojournalist was going to need someone in her corner.  Even better, both young men had decided she was almost perfect after her photo essay about the football team – comparing the group to a set of mythical warriors battling for the an eternal prize.  Rafe's comments about AJ's personal on-campus security team had him tickled.  The two boys had cornered Rafe privately, advising him to be very careful with the young woman or the team would be very upset. 

When they arrived at the museum leading the clean-up volunteers, Blair had taken them aside.  Quickly explaining AJ's concussion (and convincing the two that Rafe had nothing to do with it), he'd outlined what he needed them to do.  Jacob had grinned evilly and muttered that with five sisters he knew how to handle a grouchy female.  Tony had nodded and disappeared to find Fortaleza.  It wasn't too long after that Blair had seen Jacob coaxing her into taking some painkillers.  The vaguely harassed look on her face as she downed the soda while reading over the plans Tony was gesturing to was worth the effort of convincing the two friends to help him handle her.  

Now all he had to do was find one or the other of them and he'd find Fortaleza.  He let his eyes skim over the groups of students.  Some were cataloging the artifacts.  Others were boxing damaged ones.  The archeologists and photographers – turning the exhibit hall into a learning tool while making sure nothing was overlooked, recorded every move the groups made. But he didn't see them anywhere.  That left the one area he couldn't see.

Blair moved farther down the hall, stopping to answer questions on his way.  Off to the side was a set of plain brown barricades.  They surrounded the Aztec diorama, keeping the students, museum workers, and various other volunteers out of the area.  For further protection against the morbidly curious, uniformed Cascade police officers stood close to the only possible entrance to the barricaded diorama.  

"Sandburg."  One of the officers acknowledged his presence with a nod.

"Hi, John.  Anyone give you any trouble?"

"Nope.  That lady who was driving Ellison up the wall told them to leave us alone or else she'd fail them all."  The patrolman grinned.  He and his partner were enjoying their assignment.  First they got to watch some kid jump all over Ellison (not that they'd understood a word she said mind you). Then they got to watch her bully the two Major Crimes detectives into helping her put up the barricades.  She'd made them a little late for some meeting too. And finally, they were allowed to settle in comfortably and watch the observer in his own element – an amazing sight as he delegated, ordered, explained, and generally kept things moving.  The two officers were certain few people would believe them if they told, so they'd borrowed a photography student and asked him to get lots of photos of the scene.  

"Seen AJ?"  Blair asked, unaware of the photographer shadowing his footsteps.

"Yeah.  She and her two jocks went out the side exit with some museum people." John replied, pointing to the 'Museum Employees Only' door nearby.  

"She say where she was going?"

"No.  The boys were arguing that she shouldn't be climbing, though." 

Blair swallowed thickly and looked up in time to see a piece of the ceiling move.  A hatch came open and a rope fell, uncoiling slowly until it hit the floor next to the Yanamamo display. His eyes widened in dismay as he watched AJ and one of the museum techs carefully settle themselves onto one of the steel girders that extended across the hall.  

They quickly attached lines to special anchor bolts in the ceiling before handing them back through the open hatch.  A moment later, a familiar pair of students joined them, while others peered down from the hatch.  AJ and the tech began efficiently and expertly explaining how they were to connect the cables to the anchor bolts.  The young woman moved confidently along the girder, lowering coils of rope and thin metal cable onto it.  She pointed out where the coils needed to be and the groups of anchor bolts that each person was assigned, all without ever looking down.

"Jim is gonna kill her."  Blair whispered, watching as several coils of cable and rope were carefully lowered to her.  "And I'm gonna help him."

He couldn't see a safety line attached to the harness wrapped around her waist and he knew how dangerous that could be – especially with a concussion.  Before he could move towards the stairway door, Jacob reached out and snagged her hand, keeping her from leaving the group.   With a deft move, he unsnapped the second safety line connected to his harness and connected it to hers.  From the way she turned on him, Blair knew she wasn't happy with the restriction, but she didn't remove it.

One by one, several other students and workers lowered themselves onto the main girder.  They quickly formed into groups of three and got to work. Each took a coil of either rope or cable and began slowly moving out over the displays.  The two Blair had set to watching AJ refused to let her carry anything as they followed her along one of the beams.

"Sandburg?" Jim's voice startled the anthropologist.  Blair turned around, a feral grin on his face as he pointed to the figures moving above them.  The sentinel's eyes narrowed as he stared at them.  "I'm going to hurt her."

"I thought she'd try something," Blair's chuckle and gleaming eyes betrayed his amusement at the whole situation.  Oh, yeah, both the sentinel and the guide were going to get back at the girl.  Sooner or later. "So I called a couple of her photography students and told them about her concussion.  Neither one has left her side all morning and they insisted that she wear a rope up there.  I don't think she likes that very much."

"Good job, Sandburg."  Jim replied thoughtfully, his eyes still on the figures crossing overhead.  The moment AJ stopped moving, he let out a trilling birdcall.  At Blair's raised eyebrows, the older man shrugged.  He spoke quietly once he knew he had her attention. "Hamuy[1], sagrada.  We need to talk."

Instead of returning along the girder, the young woman unclipped her harness from the safety line.  She quickly took one of the coiled cables from Josh, attached it to an anchor bolt, and tossed it over the side.  Then she clipped her harness to the cable and kicked off the girder, rappelling down rapidly.

"Fortaleza! Slow down."  The sentinel growled softly but menacingly.  She paused for a long moment before resuming her descent, much slower.  When she landed a few feet from them, Jim shook his head.  "Do you have any idea how stupid and dangerous that was?"

AJ looked from sentinel to guide, confusion written all over her face.  When she finally spoke, her accent was thick, her words puzzled. "But I always climb--"

"Not with class three concussion you don't.  The doctors only let you out because I promised to make sure you took it easy."  The detective glared at her furiously.  "Working up on the girders, rappelling, driving – they're all off limits for at least a week."

"Oh."  The green eyes frowned.  She looked from detective to anthropologist and back.  "But I'm fine.  I've had concussions before, why shouldn't I work?"

Blair rolled his eyes at the baffled look on her face.  He was watching his sentinel's reaction and knew what was coming.

"You are not fine.  You're hurt.  What happens if you get dizzy up there – I don't care that it has happened yet, it could happen."  Jim kept his voice down, trying not to get carried away, but he was getting close to losing his temper.  "Uma nanywasu?[2]"

"Millanweyaw ashammi."  She replied, waving off his glower.  "Concussions hurt.  That's never meant I couldn't work before."

"You have a moderately severe concussion – one that can cause dizziness or blackouts.  If you have either up there… even you won't bounce back from a fall like that."  The exaggerated patience in Ellison's words made Blair bite his lip.  The sentinel shot his guide a quick look, warning him not to laugh.  "Promise me you won't do anymore high wire acts."

AJ frowned at the comment, before slowly nodding. She sighed, yielding the argument. "Very well, Enqueri. If it makes you feel better I promise not to work up there for a week. But that isn't why you came here, is it?"

The detective's head jerked back and his eyes narrowed as he contemplated the woman in front of him.  The quiet but obvious argument between them had cleared the area as students and other workers moved to other displays rather than get caught in the crossfire.  From the slight tilt of Fortaleza's head he knew she had noticed that and was using her hearing to monitor him – to see if he was about to lie to her.  He gave her a feral grin.

"I need to take Blair to the station – but I won't if I think you'll get into trouble."  Jim stared off into space thoughtfully.  "I can see if Simon can spare someone to keep an eye on things here."

AJ shook her head.  "I am in no danger, not now.  If they had wanted to hurt me… I'd be dead.  If they had wanted a secondary, I'd be gone.  Take Sandburg and go."

"Whoa, what if I don't want to leave you?"  Blair jumped in.  There was no way he was about to let a sentinel and a… what did she call it, sagrada?..  decide for him.  "There is too much to do.  Why can't you bring the photos here?"

"Orders, Chief.  Nothing leaves the station on this one."  

"Go with Enqueri, I promise to keep my feet on the floor and not do anything dangerous."  

"Yeah, but you don't think dancing on the girders is dangerous."  Blair muttered.

"Dancing?"  

"Go, before you get me in trouble."  AJ shook her head at the two men and grinned.  "I promise, no dancing either."

Jim looked at his guide, his eyes questioning.  Blair chuckled, knowing the other man would never believe the story anyway.  The photographer took that as her cue and turned away, quickly joining a group of students and TA's lifting a false wall into place.

Major Crimes Bull Pen, 11am

"These are at every entrance?"  The observer straightened his glasses and peered at the photograph.  "I really need to examine one to be sure – but I think it's a guardian stone.  They are pretty rare, especially with this kind of marking.  So when do I get to see one up close?"

"You won't."  The detective's tone was short and hard.  The younger man looked up, startled.  Before he could ask, Jim continued.  "Don't even think about going over to the foundry and checking them out either.  I already warned the others.  Anyone seen to touch one of these dies – and they don't die easily."

"You've seen these before?"  Blair stared at his friend in shock.  South American guardian stones were somewhat related to Celtic wyrd stones, nearly mythic in their rarity.  "I mean, these are something I wouldn't think the Chopec used or even came across."

"The Chopec don't use them, Chief."  The haunted expression in Jim's eyes made Blair wince.  He hadn't meant to drag up any bad memories but it was obvious he had.  "Those things mark forbidden areas.  Anyone who disturbs them or crosses their boundaries was hunted down and killed for the sacrilege they committed.  One of my patrols found that out the hard way.  The kid who picked up the pretty little stone was stalked for over two weeks and then they kept him alive for several days before killing him."

"Oh, man."  A wave of unease swept over the anthropologist.  "We all crossed the line into foundry."

"No.  I checked.  There were stones at the main entrance, but one of them was missing.  When I pulled the Deuces' statement, one of them mentioned that the missing teen, Carlos, had picked something up at the entrance."  The detective looked at the file in front of him.  "We didn't break the line, it was gone when the police arrived."

"What about the rest of the markers?"  Blair asked.

"I don't know about them… as long as we leave them alone, I think we're okay."  The sentinel looked at his guide.  "Just stay away from the foundry and leave those things alone."

Blair stared at his friend's unyielding expression and decided to drop the subject.  He would ask for more information later.  When Jim was relaxed and more likely to explain what was going on.  And if that didn't work, he'd ask Henri and Rafe about the early morning meeting.  He knew something had happened there that was upsetting his sentinel and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

"Hey, Ellison?"  The familiar Texas drawl of Felicia Jean interrupted the two men.  "Is Ms. Wells always so… antisocial and preachy?"

Both men began chuckling at the disgusted look on the young woman's face.  Jim raised his eyebrow, "Why? Didn't like you coming after her?"

"She didn't like being ordered out of the foundry.  From all a' her screeching you'd a thought I was draggin' her by the ear.  Then she fussed all the way to the Museum."  The woman tossed her coat on her chair unhappily.  She paused a moment before turning toward the door with an empty coffee mug in her hand. "Iffen Ah eveh volunteah to help that woman again, would one of you please hog tie me?"

"Sure thing."  Ellison replied, shoulders shaking with mirth.  No one had considered the idea that that Felicia Jean might not know Cassie.  It wasn't like the forensics technician spent much time in Major Crimes any more.  Simon had straightened that out after the problems with Chapel and the University dig – Cassie stayed in her own department unless delivering her reports. 

"Felicia Jean?"  Blair asked, eyes worried.  "Um, where is Cassie?  You didn't leave her at the museum, did you?"

  
"Heck, no.  Should have."  The detective grinned maliciously. Her voice turned hard.  "That woman picked the wrong person to yell at and got herself tossed out the door. They told her never to come back – not even to buy a ticket 'cause she weren't coming inside the building."

"What did she do?" Blair asked as shot Jim a sharp look.  The sentinel stiffened, his full attention on the other detective.  This was beyond what they had expected and it didn't sound good.

"She started pitchin' a fit about 'contamination of the scene' and 'theft and graft'.  The lady in charge of the exhibit told her to leave and Ms. Wells lost it."  The amusement in Felicia Jean's eyes died.  Her words calmed and the Texas drawl thinned.  "It got real strange then.  Ms. Wells knocked over one of the boys, tripped him or something.  One of the clay pieces broke… dust went everywhere.  Wells' asthma started up – real bad too.  Before I could move the museum lady had Wells on the floor and her inhaler outta her purse.  Said something real creepy… said she didn't want Ms. Wells' death on her shoulders an' told her to keep her inhaler on a string around her neck where she could always reach it. Then she told her to leave and not come back.  Said she didn't like having people with death marks around her.  Security showed up 'bout then and escorted us out of the exhibit.  Told Ms. Wells not to come to the exhibit since the owner objected and 'cause she destroyed a priceless artifact."  
  


"Fortaleza said that?"  Jim's eyes were thoughtful and worried.  

"Is Cassie okay?" Blair asked at the same time.

"Yeah, but from what she said she's not a happy woman."  Bright blue eyes turned to Jim. "Fortaleza the little lady's name?  Yeah, she said that.  She looked a little rocky after that so Megan stayed there."

"Good." Jim replied tersely.  "I'll check on her later."

Felicia Jean stared at the senior detective as he turned back to the paperwork on his desk.  She wasn't too sure, but she thought she'd just seen a crack in the proverbial Ellison armor.  Blair grinned at her and turned his attention back to the photographs he was studying. She shrugged and headed for the break room. She really needed some coffee.

~^~^~^~

"So, what do you think?"  Brian Rafe asked his partner as they stepped into the Major Crimes bullpen. 

"Don't know about some of the things Earl is claiming, bro."  Henri looked uncomfortable.  "I don't believe in magic or psychics or any of that stuff.  It's all hooey."

Rafe nodded, carefully masking his reaction to the words.  He knew his partner well.  Well enough to expect this response to the claims of the others. He wasn't happy about it but he knew better than to try to change his friend.  He would have to remind himself to avoid certain subjects around his partner.  That was going to be hard, especially now.

"Aw, no, Rafe."  H stared at his partner, eyes wide as he noticed the expression in the younger man's eyes.  "Please tell me you don't believe all that mumbo-jumbo stuff Earl was telling us."

"I saw some pretty strange stuff in South Africa, H."  Rafe replied quietly.  He turned his footsteps toward Ellison's desk.  "I've seen stranger stuff here."

"Hey, Rafe, H."  Blair greeted them enthusiastically.  He eyes the brown paper bag in Rafe's hand.  "Whatcha got?"

The young detective grinned and pulled out a collection of evidence bags.  Each one held a heavily carved and painted stone. "Earl's been collecting these things, thought they were some kind of territory marker.  He said we could keep them as long as we need."

"There's more than one type of guardian stone here."  Sandburg reverently held the first bag up to the light, his eyes wide as he stared at the pale stone. One by one he lifted them to the light, staring at the markings in awe.  "I might be able to decipher one or two of these, but they're not my specialty.  Maybe AJ could tell you about them."

Jim cautiously picked up one of the evidence bags.  He grimaced and dropped it onto the desk, wiping his fingers surreptitiously on his chinos.  "These things stay here, chief.  No way they're leaving."

"He's right, Hairboy."  Brown smiled ruefully.  "Simon's orders. Nothing in connection with this case leaves the station."

"Huh?"  Blair looked from one detective to another.  H shook his head, chuckling as he went to answer his phone.  The observer turned his attention to the two remaining detectives.   "Since when – I mean the university has people who we can consult on this."

"Not this time.  No files, no pictures, no evidence leaves Major Crimes."  Jim straightened his notes.  "Part of it's because we don't want any copycats and part of it is that the Feds are arriving tonight.  We don't want any problems over this case."

Blair nodded his understanding. He might not agree with Simon's decision but he wasn't about to argue.  The Feds made life a bit harder to handle and Major Crimes wasn't going to do anything to make it worse.  He turned his attention back to Rafe and saw the pensive look on his face. "What's up, man?  Something wrong?"

"How do the tribes in South America adopt new members?" Brian's pale hazel eyes were distant.

"Um, do you mean adults or children?" The anthropologist asked, not quite sure where this question was going.  Behind him, he heard Jim's computer keyboard go silent and knew the sentinel was watching them.

"Adult."

"Well, they're usually hosted by someone for a while… usually by an important member of the tribe.  Then, they are formally introduced to the shaman or the chief.  Once the shaman or the chief gives his approval, the person is adopted into the host's family." Blair looked up at Rafe, curious about the whole thing. "The adoptee always has references or a good reason for changing tribes. Once adopted, the new family introduces the new member to the rest of the tribe by their new name."

"Why are you asking?"  Jim's quiet question startled them both.

"I'm trying to make sense of something Kyrie said this morning." The detective looked at the pile of evidence bags.  "She's pretty convinced she on her own against the cult and I don't understand why."

"What do you mean?"  The sentinel stood, coming close to the other man.  "And why is it bothering you so much?"

"She's pretty convinced that she has no back up, no support, and worst of all, no one she can turn to here in Cascade.  She doesn't really think she's going to make it out alive against the cult."  Brian's pain filled eyes speared Jim's ice-blue eyes. He forced himself to keep his voice low and calm.  "From what she said, she considers herself expendable and you do too. Something about it being her duty."

"No way!"  Blair's voice caught the attention of several officers. Jim's fierce scowl made them turn back to their paperwork.  "We're her friends and more importantly, she's Jim's little sister."

"One thing at a time, Sandburg." The tightly clenched muscle in Jim's jaw was practically spasming from the force of his thoughts.  "We've known she is my adopted sister, Hidalga, for almost a month now.  And we haven't done anything about that. We've let her isolate herself from the tribe."

"That's not the point Jim. She's the one who refused all of our invites to meet people."  Blair responded quietly.  "Let her? How long did you have to argue to get her to agree to check in on a regular basis?  And the only reason she shows up on Sundays for breakfast after mass is that you wouldn't take no for an answer."

"She doesn't trust you."  The words slipped past Rafe's guard and he froze at the sudden glare Ellison shot his way.

"Explain that."

Rafe swallowed thickly, wondering how to explain what he'd figured out on his own.  "I don't think she trusts anyone, Jim."  At the raised eyebrow, he knew the older detective wanted the truth.  "She thinks you only tolerate her because of an obligation to the Chopec.  If you hadn't made that promise to their shaman, she thinks you would keep her as far away from Sandburg as you could… and she thinks that you should.  As far as she's concerned you are her debt, not her friends and not her family."

"That doesn't make any sense."  Blair shook his head in confusion.

"Yes, it does."  Jim swept the files into a drawer, locked it, and stood.  "Stay here with Rafe, Chief.  I'm going to talk to Fortaleza.  We'll be here in time for a late lunch."

"You're bringing her here?"  The two men stared at the senior detective in disbelief.

"Yep."  The ice-cold smile on Ellison's face made them flinch.  "I've been neglecting the duty of being her only uh-tura.  I think it's about time I went and took care of my responsibility.  Don't you?"  The detective grabbed his coat and left.

Rafe turned to Sandburg, puzzled.  "Did you understand that?"

"I think he said he was going to do his duty, get his sister, bring her here, and introduce her to his friends."  Blair replied, eyes wide.  "She's not going to like it."

"I think we'd better keep an eye on them." 

"Agreed."

The two young men raced out of the bullpen, ignoring the startled expressions they received from the detectives and officers around them.

Museum of Natural History, Etterman Wing.

"Dr. Houseman?"  Jim spoke softly enough not to startle the archeology professor.

"Ah, Detective Ellison, what can I do for you?"  The spritely older lady smiled happily at him.  He knew the only reason she wasn't out in the field was her health – her mind and her interests hadn't dimmed with age.  "Isn't this wonderful? Just like an archeology dig, only in my back yard."

"How would you like to be in charge of it for the rest of the afternoon?"  Jim saw the startled, hopeful look and smiled.  "Alessandre needs to get some rest.  If the docs knew I let her get away with this much work, they'd sedate her and make her stay at the hospital."

"She was hurt? But she said she was fine."  The keen brown eyes widened as they caught the rest of the information Jim had let 'slip'.  "You know her personally?"

"She's my little sister."  Jim admitted, looking up in time to see AJ's wide-eyed gaze.  From her expression, she was listening in avidly and had been since the moment Jim uttered her name.

"But her name—" 

"Half-sister, full-blooded sister, does it really make a difference?"  Jim purred at the woman.  He knew from listening to her debate with others in her department that her opinion of the subject matched his own.  If they shared blood they were family. "She has a pretty bad concussion, but she doesn't want to leave because she can't leave the exhibit without someone knowledgeable in charge."

"I'll do it." The woman smiled happily.  "It'll give me something to do besides teach the senior seminar the dean lets me keep."

"Thank you."  Jim managed to say before AJ stalked past. He snagged her wrist.  "Ready to go?"

"I'm not leaving."  The young woman hissed at him.

"Hamuy."  The flat steel edge in his voice made her look up at him rebelliously.  "You've put in more than enough time. Even Dr. Houseman can see the headache you've got.  Sayk'usqa kanki, pisi pana.[3] Sama-na-yki.[4]"  
  


The young woman reluctantly nodded.  "If you need to reach me," she looked at Jim and he nodded, handing Dr. Houseman his card. "I'll be with him."

"Is he really your brother, child?"  The soft worried question made Fortaleza smile.

"Unfortunately. And that means he thinks he can tell me what to do."  She reassured the older woman before following the sentinel to the exit.  There she quickly signed out, leaving both her cell phone number and Jim's.

She waited until they were on the museum steps before asking him where they were going.  Jim kept an eye on her as he replied.  "Don't you think it's time I introduced you to my tribe?"

The look of sheer shock that crossed her face was unexpected.  He barely caught up to her as she turned and raced for the edge of the terrace.  Clinging to the railing, she leaned over it, loosing what little she had in her stomach.

"That bad?" The sentinel watched her, all of his senses trying to make sense of her reaction.  He knew it wasn't just because she was afraid of the police uniform.

"I am of the tribe, but no one ever introduces me… that makes me one of its members."  Wide panicked silver-green eyes looked at him in disbelief.  "I learn who they are and they learn who I am without introductions. I'm one of the Walks Through People, I belong to many tribes without being part of them."

"You are my sister." There was no softness in Jim's voice.  "You are part of my tribe.  You get introduced to the rest of them. That's my responsibility and I mean to take care of it.  Can you handle going into the station?"

Slowly, she straightened, eyes still staring at him.  AJ's lips were a tight line, her face bloodless, her fists clenched.  Whatever she saw in the tall man's expression reassured her and she let him help her stand.  Finally, she nodded.  "I think so."

"I'll be right there, beside you."

"Promise?"  For a moment, AJ's voice was as soft as that of a little child's.

"I promise."  Jim whispered his promise, determined to keep it.

End chapter 11.

Title Page

Chapter 12

Comments?

  


* * *

[1] Hamuy  Come here.

[2] Uma naywasu?  Does your head hurt?

[3] Sayk'usqa kanki, pisi pana. You are tired, little sister.

[4] Sama-na-yki. You need(must) to rest.


	13. The Storm Touches Down

The Storm Chapter 12

The Storm Touches Down

The Cascade Museum, 18 November.

"Well, what do you think?"  Blair focused his attention on the two figures on the wide portico. 

"I don't know.  Doesn't look like they're fighting."  Brian Rafe glanced over at the police observer.  "Would he force her to go to the station if she refused?"

"That depends on a lot of things, Rafe."  He turned worried blue eyes on the pair, watching as the sentinel laid his hand on the young woman's back.  She didn't seem to be fighting him and after a long moment, she leaned against him, letting Jim pull her to her feet.  "Looks like they're heading out."

"I guess we'd better not let them catch us spying on them."  Rafe responded softly, turning toward the car.

Blair didn't say anything.  He simply met his sentinel's glance before turning to follow the nattily dressed detective.  

Outside the Central Precinct, 18 November.

Jim pulled the truck to a stop in the parking lot across from the station. He didn't want to pull into the parking garage and force AJ to into an enclosed area filled with police cruisers and police officers.  She had agreed to come with him to the precinct, but he wasn't about to push it.  She was already pale and shaking.

"Hidalga?" Jim kept his voice gentle as he spoke to her. 

Wide eyes turned to meet his.  "I'm ready."

"Right."  Jim murmured with a rueful smile.  She was a stubborn cuss. "Just don't stop in the middle of the street.  Too much traffic.  If you want to stop before we go inside, I'll understand."

She turned away, her eyes on the station doors again and he heard the faint whisper of a prayer.  It amazed him to hear the familiar Latin words she was murmuring under her breath when she was scared – he'd expected Quechua, but instead he got old Latin.  Vaguely, he realized it was a prayer he had heard Sally recite many times – one asking for strength and aid in times of trials.  Still shaking his head, Jim got out of the truck and went to the passenger door. 

"Ready to meet my friends, my tribe?"  He asked quietly.

She nodded and let him pull her from the truck.  Once on the sidewalk though, she froze. She shook her head, backing into the truck.  "How about we don't do this?  I don't have to be part of the tribe.  I'll live without it."

"Kyrie Alessandre."  Jim growled the words softly but their affect was startling.

"Da, ee shto vyi hatit'yte ya magoo?" //What more do you want from me?// The pale face turned to him. "I'm scared and it's stupid and I know it."

"What did you say?"  He was puzzled by the strange words.

"I know your police are safer than the ones I met in SudAmerica.  I know I don't have to be afraid of them – but it doesn't stop the fear."  She replied, biting her lip in frustration.  Then she closed her eyes and Jim could see and hear her calming herself.

"No, I was asking what you said before you said you were afraid."  He watched as a frown appeared over her eyes and then she shrugged it away.  The absolute blankness that came to her face sent chills up the sentinel's spine.  "Let's head on in."

She nodded, eyes opening.  "It's snowing again."

"Yes, it is.  I think Cascade likes you, instead of raining it's been snowing since your arrival."  Jim placed his hand on her arm and escorted her into the crosswalk.  "Too bad it doesn't just give us a nice normal fall with sunny, almost warm days."

"My kind of luck."  AJ responded.  "Why did you call me that?"

"What? Kyrie? It's part of you name… the one you remember from before your accident, right?"  Jim replied.  At her nod he grinned.  "I figured it would break through your fear for a moment.  If you don't like it, I won't call you that."

Her head tilted as she thought about it as they stepped onto the plaza.  "I don't mind. I'm only used to Zel and Cage calling me that.  I could get used to it, I guess."

"Or do you prefer only letting Brian use that name?" Jim fought a laugh at the red flooding the young woman's face.  "It's okay, I think it's cute."

"You would."  AJ curled her lips at him and then her face became a mask as they stepped into the precinct.

"Detective Ellison."  Sergeant Howard smiled at them as Jim led AJ to the sign in desk.  He handed the visitor logbook to the detective, noting the quiet terror in the woman's eyes.  He'd see that kind of terror before, but not in people walking in of their own free will.  He almost said something, but caught the detective's quick head movement.

"Sergeant Howard, this is my little sister, AJ Fortaleza."  The quiet words shocked the older officer.  Around him, several other officers turned to get a look at the woman half hidden by the big detective.  "AJ, this is Sergeant Howard.  He's one of the nicest officers on the force."

"Pleased to meet you, miss."  Sergeant Howard leaned over the counter to shake her hand and decided the bright eyes and faint smile were worth the effort.

"Thank you, sergeant. I am happy to meet you as well."  AJ knew her accent was confusing the man, but his genuine friendliness made her smile at him.  She took the visitor's pass he handed her and attached it to her parka.

"Come on, kid.  We've got people waiting for us."  Jim's grin was almost infectious as he ushered her past the desk.

"Who?"

"Blair and Brian are upstairs. We're going to lunch with them, after I introduce you to everyone."  The sentinel heard the instant spike in her heart rate and he chuckled.  He was not about to tell her that both of the young men had witnessed the scene on the museum steps or the fact that he knew for a fact that Rafe had broken a lot of traffic laws to get them back so fast.  As it was, both were hovering near the elevator, waiting for their arrival. "Nervous about seeing him here?"

"No. Just…" She looked away embarrassed.

They stopped at the elevator door, waiting for the car to arrive.  Several uniformed officers escorting prisoners joined them. Eyes focused on the silvery cuffs and chains on their wrists, AJ backed into Ellison. Seeing the problem, he quickly shifted so she was tucked against the wall and he stood between her and the prisoners.

"Hey, Ellison." One of the uniforms acknowledged the detective.  "How's Sandburg? I haven't seen much of him lately."

At the comment, AJ peered at the man, noting the wide smile and friendly eyes.  

"Tom.  Blair's fine, he's been busy at the university this week."  Jim replied, noting the movement of the woman beside him. He shifted so she didn't have to peer around his shoulder.  "Tom Dixon, this is my sister, AJ Fortaleza.  She's visiting from Peru."

The officer didn't ask the questions that were instantly in his eyes. Instead he simply nodded. "Ms. Fortaleza."

"Officer," AJ's eyes widened as she caught the prisoner's movement beside the smiling officer's partner. 

Even as she spoke, the handcuffed man grabbed for his guard's weapon.  The move caught all three uniformed officers by surprise.  Before they could move, the youngest officer had a pistol digging into his throat.  She saw his name tag fly off his uniform and barely had time to read it, K. Carmine, before she felt as if her scalp was being ripped off her already throbbing head. 

The armed convict's companions had taken advantage of their friends' actions and one had managed to grab AJ's long braid, dragging her into their group.  The third man wrapped his arm around her throat, pulling her tightly against his chest.  She watched as Tom Dixon, Jim, and the other guard backed away, their hands raised placatingly, eying the men and their hostages warily.

"Where are the keys?"  The man snarled.  Around him police officers were moving civilians out of the line of fire. He kept his back to the wall and kept glancing from one target to another.

"Let them go."  Ellison kept his hands out spread, trying not to panic the man in front of him. "There's nowhere for you to run.  You've already got too many witnesses to get away with this."

"Right.  We've got a cop and a cop's sister as hostages. You won't risk us hurting them." The man replied, tightening his grip on the cop in question.

Beside him, AJ had her fingers curled around the arm at her throat.  Her eyes were locked on the sentinel, waiting for him to give her a clue as to how he wanted her to react.  The faint shake of his head made her close her eyes in frustration.  She stiffened as the man behind her whispered in her ear.  

"In your dreams."  She heard the sentinel whisper in response to the man's crude words and she saw the mounting fury in Ellison's eyes. This was not supposed to happen. She was not supposed to be used as a bargaining chip against a sentinel. Around her the sound of running feet and the faint alarms told their own story. The rest of the PD was coming to the aid of their own. The three men in the funny orange coveralls didn't have a chance and that meant trouble for her and the other captive.

 "You don't want us hurting her, do you Detective?" The man behind her taunted the sentinel. As his hand began to move on her, AJ decided that she wasn't about to let this continue.

"If you do not stop right now, I will remove your hand at the wrist and force feed it to you."  She growled.  The man behind her froze at the pure fury in her voice and the one with the pistol turned a stunned face to her. The police officer grimaced, choking at the change in position.  "Let him breathe, you idiota. If you kill him, you die too."

"AJ, don't." The soft warning from Ellison made AJ smile.  

She slipped her hand inside her parka; glad she'd never gotten around to zipping it closed.  Her fingers wrapped around the small pouch hanging from her belt, her eyes meeting the sentinel's.  Slowly she pulled out a dart.  She'd neglected to paint a new set with curare and this was her last one.  She let her eyebrow raise and saw the small motion as Jim signaled the one with the pistol.

"Goodnight, sweet prince." She quoted as her arm whipped up, slamming into the hand with the pistol.  The dart pierced deeply into his wrist as the pistol fell from the numb fingers.  A split-second later, the curare dropped him to the floor.

As she moved, Jim attacked the prisoner on her left, slamming him against the wall.  The man's weak grip on AJ's braid loosened as he grappled with the angry detective.  The moment it fell from his hand, Ellison tossed the man towards the waiting wall of police officers.  He was subdued and quickly shoved out of their way as the group turned to face the last of the escapees.

At the moves of both the detective and the hostage, he had stepped backwards, pulling AJ with him.  Seeing the collected wall of police officers, he tightened his grip, making the edges of AJ's vision go dark.

"Stay back or I'll snap her neck!" The man yelled.

AJ gasped painfully, trying to make out Ellison's face.  She could sense his rage and a voice in the back of her mind began chanting for blood.  The man let up slightly and she took a deep breath.  The worry in the sentinel's eyes as well as the guilt she could read in his voice as he tried talking to her captor broke through her control.  No one was allowed to use a sagrado against a sentinel.  

The king knife's rage was building, it was bound to her, as it had been bound since the night she had sworn with her blood to protect this sentinel. By ritual and by right, no one was allowed to hold a sagrado once those vows were made.  The knife screamed for blood, the ancient chants singing through her mind as it called to her for revenge. She couldn't let this happen.  She didn't even hesitate, as she let her training take over. 

Slamming her head back, she nearly screamed in pain as the man's nose smashed against the bruises on her skull. She turned the pain and her fury on him, moving with a speed she had not realized she possessed.  

"Rafe! Catch her before she kills him!" She dimly recognized Ellison's voice but it was vague and faraway.  The rage burned, begging her to kill the man who had tried to hold her hostage against the sentinel.  The whispery voice of the king knife became stronger, promising her revenge for her humiliation.

Arms came from behind her and wrapped themselves around her, pinning her arms.  A voice whispered in her ear.  The soft voice, filled with worry and love was all it took, and immediately both the unusual rage and the knife's voice were gone.  Only the pain remained and she sagged in the familiar grip.

"Kyrie?"  Brian's voice made her open her eyes and try to focus on him.  "Hey, bright eyes. Head hurt again?"

She nodded painfully.  "Forgot about it."

"Thought so when I saw you ram him."  Brian was amused.  "So, do you need to see the doctor or can I let you go?"

"Mmm."  She turned in his arms and let him tuck her head under his chin.

"Why is it that anytime Jim brings someone to the precinct something happens?"  Blair's voice came from behind them.  The observer was looking around the crowded lobby, shaking his head at the sight of all the worried looks being shot their way. From the glowers of the detectives helping escort the troublemakers away, he knew he'd missed something. "Is she okay, Brian?"

"I think so.  Just aggravated her headache."  He cradled her head with his hand, gently touching the bandage. "No blood, so I don't think she tore any of the stitches.  How's Carmine?"

"Shaken. Bet he doesn't look away from his prisoners again."  Jim replied.  "Hidalga, open your eyes and look at me."

AJ opened her eyes and glared at the sentinel.  He grinned and held up his hand, asking, "How many fingers?"  
  


"Iskay."

"In English."

"Two."  

"Rafe, is she okay, bro?" The new voice caught her attention and AJ saw three big men approaching.  The worried looks and the concerned voices made her frown slightly.  She didn't know them, so why were they worried about her.  She knew she'd seen them in the crowd of police officers, but that was it.

Rafe almost laughed at the confused look on her face.  The rumor mill was already spreading the idea that Ellison's little sister was in town.  It wouldn't take long for the news of her contented sojourn in his arms to follow, so he decided to liven it up a little. Leaning down, he gently placed a kiss on her lips.  He grinned at her bemused expression.  

"She's going to be fine, Henri." He replied quietly, turning Kyrie to face the rest of the Major Crimes department. 

"Miss Fortaleza," Simon Banks looked down at the woman blinking at him bemusedly and fought a grin.  Brian had definitely calmed her down, befuddled her too.  "How about we take this up to the offices?  There will be less people there and I think you'd prefer a little oasis of calm."

She looked from Simon's expectant smile and his offered arm to Rafe's amused grin and nodded her acquiescence. Immediately he let his arms drop from her waist and let her step away.  He followed as the captain gently led her onto the elevator.

"Nice lady." Brown teased, his happy grin full of amusement at the scene he'd just witnessed. "And completely wrapped around his fingers."

"That's true. And he's about as badly besotted as she is."  Ellison added, gesturing that the rest of them would wait for the next elevator.  "Better let it go."

"Why?"  Joel asked watching the door close.

"In three moves she disarmed one assailant and broke free of another, breaking his nose and shattering his wrist."  The detective quickly stepped into the next elevator.  "Do you really think she needs to be crowded right now?  Even with Rafe right there beside her?"

  
The two big men looked at each other warily.  "And she's your sister?"

Jim smiled.  "Yep."

"Aw, this is gonna be a fun match."  Joel mused.  "Rafe is as shy and quiet a cop as I've ever seen and she's as dangerous as you are.  She won't hurt him, will she?"

"What makes you think Rafe isn't dangerous?"  Henri asked in reply.  He'd managed once to get his partner drunk enough to talk about his life before coming to the US. He promised himself never to let the other man get drunk again – the icy fury and determination in the mild speaking, fancy dresser had scared him witless.  "He took on the hand to hand instructor and took him down faster than anyone on record except Ellison."

Both Taggart and Ellison looked at Brown thoughtfully.  Neither were too surprised, the S.W.A.T. leader had been seriously upset by Rafe's transfer and had only yielded when Rafe promised to help out if he was needed.  They also knew the quiet man had a reputation among the sharpshooters, but he never said much about it so they didn't ask.  Now they wondered what else they'd missed.

Once in the bullpen, Jim fought off a grin.  AJ was ensconced at Rafe's desk, with Rafe introducing her to the others.  Jim and Blair stood back and watched as Henri and Joel quickly joined the group talking to the couple.

"Well, at least she seems to fit in."  Blair commented quietly, an amused smile on his face.

"It's what she is."  Jim replied, eyes thoughtful.  "Think about it, Chief. How long would she survive if she couldn't make alliances?  Now that she knows she's accepted, life just got easier on all of us."

Blair nodded.  "But you're not the one doing the introductions. That doesn't fit the pattern."

"I brought her here.  I introduced her to the desk sergeant and several others.  After that idiot downstairs grabbed her, I gave her to Brian."  The sentinel was watching AJ, his mind busy, thinking about what had happened.  "I publicly acknowledged her as part of my tribe and gave my approval for her to be seeing Rafe."  He sighed.  "But there was something else going on down there, and I don't understand it."

"What happened, Jim?  I mean besides the fact that I thought she was going to rip that guy's head off?"  Blair asked, his attention fully on his sentinel.

"I'm not too sure."  The sentinel shrugged. "I'll tell you as soon as I figure it out."

"Do that."  Blair settled against the desk, half perching on a corner.  From the look he shot the older man, the sentinel knew it would be brought up again when the guide could help him figure it all out if he needed to.  "Sure makes an interesting scene, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does." The two men grinned.

It was not obvious, but Rafe had tucked Fortaleza in the corner behind his desk. The wall and the desk kept the other detectives from crowding her.  AJ kept her eyes averted until Brian actually introduced them to her.  She was polite, meeting their eyes and shaking their hands, but otherwise she was very much staying securely in his shadow.  The detectives quickly adjusted their voices and gestures, softening and gentling their approach.  

At least that was the situation until Megan and the other ladies of Major Crimes arrived. The Australian laughed aloud and quickly managed to displace Rafe, pulling Felicia Jean with her as she exclaimed,  "You're Rafe's secret lady? How on earth did you keep Ellison from finding out?"

"I just…"

"Avoided telling him or me!  I thought we agreed we were going to be friends?"  She rolled her eyes and gave the younger woman a quick hug.  "You have to tell me how you pulled it off.  Have you met Felicia?"

The sentinel grinned as her uncomfortable expression melted into one of slow acceptance.  "I think this is going to work out just fine."

"Depends on what Simon's about to say."  Blair murmured, having seen the Captain's door opening.

Simon placed a bottle of Tylenol on Rafe's desk, "You said you had a headache, this should help."

"Gracias, Capítan." She grinned, picking up the bottle and reading the back of it. The quick glance she shot at Jim and Blair reassured her and she opened it, pouring out the painkillers.  

"Kitten? Catch."  Jim called, holding up a sealed bottle of water.  At her raised hand, he tossed it across the room.  The photographer dropped the pills onto Rafe's desk, both hands coming up reflexively to catch the plastic bottle.

Henri and the others grinned broadly at the interplay.  As she quickly downed the pills, H turned on the senior detective, a speculative look on his face.  "If you call her kitten, what does she call you?"  
  


Jim shot a quick glare at her, but she was already responding with a quiet, "A pain."

The innocent expression and Blair's choked laughter was all it took.  Henri rolled his eyes at his partner and began laughing. Ellison only glared harder and Fortaleza blinked at him before grinning wickedly. "I take it they're always like this?"

Rafe shrugged and grinned.  "Sometimes… when both are in good moods."

"Okay, people."  Simon interrupted.  His gruff demeanor was spoiled by the smile lurking in his eyes and at corner of his mouth.  "You all have work to do – so get to it."

Blair fought a grin as he picked up his coffee mug from the corner of Jim's desk.  It was cold.  He took a quick sip, grimacing at the bitter dregs, and deciding he definitely needed a new cup of coffee.  "So do you think this'll fix the trust problem?"

"It better."  Jim replied, eying the pile of evidence bags on his desk.  He raised an eyebrow at his guide and picked up a couple of them. "Let's go find out."

Blair followed a step behind as the detective crossed to Rafe's desk.  He laid the evidence bags on the desktop, smoothing the plastic out so the stones were fully displayed. "Hidalga? Can you give me any clues as to what these are?"

Her silver and green eyes flickered quickly from the sentinel to his guide before landing on the evidence bags.  Her eyes widened as her face went pale.  Gingerly, she tugged one free of the long fingers trapping it against the wood.  The oily gray and black stone in the bag seemed to wink at Jim as the evidence bag slid from his grasp.

The cautious way she handled the top of the plastic bag, making sure the stone never got close to her fingers and the fierce frown as she studied it bothered the detectives.  Very carefully she set it back down, as far from her as she could without dropping it on the floor.  He noticed that she picked up the second bag with less trepidation and set it back down in front of her.  "Are there more?"

Jim nodded and gestured to his desk.  AJ looked past him and winced at the site of them.  "You want to see them?"

"No. But I must." The soft words didn't hide the slight quaver in her voice.  She closed her eyes, rubbing lightly at the bandage on her temple.

Blair nodded at Jim's gesture and went over to the desk and scooped up the pile of evidence bags, sliding them onto a file folder. After placing them on Rafe's desk, he moved to Jim's side. Something about the stones seemed to grate on his nerves, setting off internal alarms, and the feeling was getting worse.

AJ's moves were quick and economical.  Taking a quick look at each stone, she flicked the bags into different groups.  The sharp flips of her wrist and the slight thumps of the stones hitting the wooden desktop drew a circle of observers.  Halfway through examining the stones she frowned, glancing at the lone black and gray stone on the far side of the desk.  She grabbed an empty coffee mug, upended it, and placed it over the stone.  Then she went back to sorting the other evidence bags.

Once they were sorted, she picked up pen and pointed at the first grouping of evidence bags, nine in all.  "This group is Etruscan.  These two are door guards – marked with the gods of the underworld, fire, strength, and pain.  Whoever disturbs these or the door they guard face their wrath – death by dismemberment and/or torture.  These are warding stones – territorial markers. Innocuous. Can be used to mark an initiate of one of the gods, like an amulet. These taboo markers – they mark those destined for ordeal sacrifice, to satisfy the blood lust of the gods. This one is a gate token – believed to mark safe passage from one world to the next."

The pen moved to the next group of stones.  "Old Minoan. Door guards to the labyrinth and the mysteries of the gods."  One by one, without pausing, she identified the parent religions and the meanings of the different markers.  Sumerian. Hittite. Toltec. Natche. Nuatl. Egyptian. Mithraic. Pre-Vedic Indic. And there were several she couldn't name at all.

"What's the common denominator?"  Blair asked quietly.

Fortaleza's forehead wrinkled as she stared at the groups of stones.  "They were all small death cults, most with sun worship as a major part of their religion.  Where did they come from?"  
  


"All over Cascade."  Jim replied shortly.

"How long have they been showing up?" 

"The first one was found at a crime scene in July."  Henri Brown replied.

AJ swayed, her eyes closing briefly.  Immediately, Rafe moved forward, steadying her with an arm around her shoulders.  For a moment fear was etched across her face.  When it vanished she turned her attention back to Jim.  "We are in big trouble, Enqueri."

"What do you mean?"  Jim asked, moving in front of her.  He crouched down, surprised by the naked fear he'd seen.

She shook her head, grabbing her backpack and opening one of the side pockets.  She quickly pulled out several maps and a set of colored pens.  Thrusting them into Jim's hands, she glanced around the bullpen.  "Do you have a place I can spread these out?" She asked, pushing the stacks of evidence bags onto a file folder.

Jim nodded and stood, leading her to the conference room.  There he paused, "Um, kid… everything in here is—"

"I know, classified. Don't talk about it without permission in triplicate."  AJ's voice was flat but she grinned briefly.  "I've done this kind of stuff before."

"Okay."  He set the maps down on the empty conference table.

Completely ignoring the photographs and diagrams pinned to the walls, AJ dropped the evidence bags on the table.  Within minutes she had her different maps spread out on the table and was studying the notations on one of the evidence bags.  With Blair's help, she puzzled out the notations on the evidence bags and they began adding information to her maps.

"Your sister knows about the Cult we're fightin'?"  Joel's quiet question snapped Jim's attention from AJ to the group of detectives watching her and Blair work. 

"She's an anthropologist, Joel."  The sentinel replied.

"Then why did she have all those things already marked on the map?"  Megan asked, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.  "I know she specializes in abo religions, but this is a bit too much of a coincidence."

"Don't go there, Connor."  Jim growled before Rafe could respond to the veiled accusation.  "AJ has worked as a specialist for the government.  She can't say exactly what she did and neither can I – but she can help us put this together.  As long as she doesn't cross the line by discussing classified material and the Feds don't realize I've gotten her to look over our problem, there shouldn't be any trouble."

"Wait a minute, Jim."  Felicia Jean's astonished murmur was loud enough to make both anthropologists look up from their work.  "Are you saying your sister is the special consultant from whom you got all that information?"

"No.  He's not saying that."  AJ answered, looking back down at the maps.  "He can't say that, because I didn't tell him about it. The cult as a whole is classified. I'm helping you with the probable identification of ward stones and sacrificial markings."

"You've done this before haven't you?"  Felicia Jean had seen the haunted look in the younger woman's eyes, and she recognized it.  She'd worked with Federal agents with the same look in their eyes – usually on murder cases, copycat killers, or escaped/released prior offenders.  

"I couldn't say, if I had."  She picked up another evidence bag and stared at it.

The soft reply was all the Texan needed to hear and she turned away with a curse spoken under her breath.  As she headed back to her desk, she paused and glared at floor before glancing at sentinel, shrugging.  "I guess it's none of my business, but she's too young for the Feds to be her dragging into this kind of stuff."

Jim only nodded, not wanting to think about the words or their meaning.  He looked over at the small crowd of detectives watching the conference room.  Some were surreptitiously watching from their desks, pretending to be doing paperwork. Others, like Joel, Henri, and Simon were watching from just outside the conference room.  He glanced at Brian Rafe and saw him staring at the overturned mug on his desk.  The edges of the evidence bag stood out where they curled against the weight of the porcelain mug.

"Jim? Make sure he leaves it alone."  The words made him turn, but AJ wasn't looking at him, she was still staring at her map.  

"Why? It's evidence."  Jim asked, watching her work. He could feel the hair on his neck beginning to stand on end.  How AJ knew Rafe was staring at the stone was not something he really wanted to think about. There were too many things about this case that he didn't want to think about.

"That one was set here, in your station. It's live."  The calm reply stunned him and the men by the door.

Jim strode over to the desk and looked at the evidence bag.  Brian glanced over at him. "No ID number or location on it." He said, gesturing to the blank area that should be labeled.

"She said it's live." Jim replied.

"I know."  The younger man shot a look at him and then glanced back down at the mug.  He missed the look the sentinel shot at him. "Guess that means she wants us to leave it alone?"

"Yep."  The sentinel thought about picking up the mug to take a look at the stone.  The sudden forbidding growl made him freeze mid-thought. The panther paced nearby, teeth bared and fur disheveled. He stepped back, thoughtfully.  It hadn't protested earlier, so why now?

"Ellison, Rafe. Get over here."  Simon's roared command brought both men into the conference room.

AJ was staring at the list of possible cult sacrifices with a frown.  Beside her, Blair was asking her if she was all right.  The young woman ignored him, moving to the picture display.  Suddenly she turned to the observer, "Blair, do you have Zel's journal with you?"

"No, they're all at the loft."  He replied, eyes widening.  "Which one do you need?"

"I don't need any of them.  You might want to look at the one from five years ago or maybe the one from 1983."  She moved back to the maps, marking in red the sites listed on the wall.  "I don't really know if they'll help, but Zel spent a good part of his life trying to stop these people."

"How much can you tell us about the cult?"  Simon asked.

She shook her head.  "Anything I'd know is classified.  I can point you to people who can help you, but I can't answer your questions."

"Why is what you know classified?"  Joel asked her, worried.

She smiled wryly, wrapping her arms around herself.  "I'm only a consultant. I don't understand the ways of the government. I follow my orders and never volunteer anything I don't have to.  It keeps me alive."

"Let it be, Joel."  Brian's voice was soft as he passed the other detectives.  He stepped close to AJ, letting one hand rest on her arm.  "You okay?"

She nodded, reaching for his hand.  "This is farther along than I was told it was."

"What does that mean?"  Jim's question made her look around Brian's side.

"It's a problem.  But I can handle it."  She replied.

"Hey, what's this doing here?"  Cassie Welles called from the bullpen.  Jim and the other detectives turned in time to see her pick up the evidence bag and open it.  Rafe's mug lay on its side on the desk.  Cassie poured the stone into her palm.  "I've been looking all over the place for this."

Simon quickly strode over to the forensic technician and stared at the clay stone as she rolled it around on her palm.  "That's yours Ms. Welles?"

"Yeah, a friend of mine made it for me.  It matches the one I wear."  Cassie raised her hand and touched a finger to the stone necklace at her throat.  "Roberto said that keeping one at my desk would be good luck."

"Are you delivering something to this department?"  Captain Banks' voice was cool as he watched the woman fidget, rearranging things on Rafe's desk.  When she shook her head he quietly told her that Serena needed her in the labs. With a sniff and a flounce the forensic worker stalked out of the bullpen.

"Cassie?"  Blair's shocked whisper echoed softly in the conference area.  "AJ why didn't you say something?"

"It's not my place to say things against your friends.  I just made sure she stays away from my exhibit."  The answer made him shake his head.  

"Who else have you seen wearing those markers?"  Jim growled.

"No one.  Just your Ms. Welles."  She refused to look up at anyone.  "I doubt she even knows what it is."

"Does anyone know her friend – the one who gave it to her?"  Brian asked quietly.

The group all shook their heads.  Simon grabbed a phone.  "Serena? Captain Banks.  We've got a problem.  Cassie's wearing one of those stones and she's got another of them on her desk."

He waited a minute and nodded.  "Serena's on her way up.  She's bringing Dan with her."

"AJ, what's the best way to stop the cult from taking Cassie?"  Jim's question made the woman go pale.

"Either you lock her up where no one you don't trust can reach her and I mean no one. Or you give them a substitute."  She turned wide eyes up to face the sentinel staring down at her.  Sadly she asked,  "How important is she to the tribe?"

"That's not the point, kid." 

"Kyrie, there's got to be another way."  Brian whispered, his hand tightening on hers.

"Not that I know of.  There have been a handful of failed sacrifices – after the person has been chosen." Fortaleza shook her head thoughtfully.  "And those were stopped by warfare, the victims taken by the warriors.  They lived."

"So what's the urgent rush, Simon?"  Dan Wolfe's voice came through the doorway.  "Serena told me to get here as fast as I could.  She'll be on her way as soon as she quits yelling at Cassie."  The big man's eyes widened and his face broke out in a smile as he caught sight of the young woman between Rafe and Ellison.  "You got yourselves a ghost hunter!"

"Yakima?"  She asked.

"You put your mark next to mine at the back door a couple of weeks ago."  He replied, stepping forward and extending his hand.  "I'm Dr. Dan Wolfe.  I'm the chief medical examiner.

"AJ Fortaleza, anthropologist and photojournalist."  She replied, shaking his hand.  "I saw the inclusor linking your mark to mine.  Thank you."

"I've worked with the Ghosts before, back while I was in the Marines.  Group called themselves Shadows."  He gestured to the vest AJ wore.  "Their scout didn't have that many signs though."

She glanced at the symbols on her vest and nodded.  "Shadows were pretty young when they met you.  I've heard about you and what you did for the kinsmen."

Simon cleared his throat. "Dan, you know Ellison's sister?"

The ME looked at Fortaleza, and shook his head.  "You're the girl the gossip train is talking about?  It figures.  Congratulations, Rafe.  Heard about that too."

"Dr. Wolfe worked with one of my tribe's other clans, the Shadow Walkers.  He patched them up very well during Desert Storm.  Risked his life for them."  Fortaleza smiled.  "My kinsmen spread the word that the tribe owed him."

"I was just doing my job," Dan replied softly.

"The rest of your unit refused to leave without you and your patient.  The colonel wanted to Court Marshall you."  She shook her head.  "You held out long enough for the chain of command to get word to the right people.  My cousin didn't get shot for spying, her husband got the medical treatment he deserved, and you got an official reprimand, two medals, and a broken collarbone.  That was above and beyond duty."

"I'm a doctor.  When I can save a life, I will."  Dan's firm words made her nod.

"We still say we owe you, Dr. Wolfe.  We accept you did your duty, but we owe you for the lengths you went on our account."  An impish grin crossed her lips.  "Vasha has a son and a daughter now.  Daniel and Evangeline."

"She didn't."  Dan sighed, a fond smile crossing his face.  "I told her no child should be saddled with my name."

"Not my fault."

"Simon, Dan?"  Serena's arrival brought the conversation to a halt.  

Fortaleza quickly withdrew, sitting at a chair to study the maps.  With her head bent over the maps, the chief of the forensics department couldn't quite see her or realize she wasn't another member of the Major Crimes Unit.  Subtly, Blair, Rafe, and Henri covered her quiet retreat, allowing Simon and Ellison to explain the situation to Serena and Dan.

"You're not telling us something."  Rafe kept his voice low, not wanting to call Serena's attention to them.

"Your friend, Ms. Welles, told you wrong. The necklace and the stone are not luck.  They mark her as property of the priests and their altars."  AJ refused to look up from the map.  Her fingers quickly mapped out lines and borders between markings.  "Where are the gangs?"

"AJ," Blair's urgent whisper brought her head up.  "What can we do? Cassie is a friend."

"Everyone is someone's friend, Blair." She picked up a green pen and made a small mark on the map.  Then she met his eyes.  "What do you want me to do? I cannot persuade her that her qosa is planning on sacrificing her.  She does not like me and I do not like her. She will ignore me or think I want him in my bed. Either way I cannot stop her."

"Whoa.  You're saying the guy she's dating is one of the cult members?"  H forced himself to keep his voice low.

"He is a priest, not a member. She wears his marker.  He would not let her be with another."  There was no emotion in AJ's voice as she spoke.  "They are good at what they do.  When they wish to seduce a man or a woman – they rarely fail.  If you want her to live through this — do not let her leave the building alone. Get her away – far away and quickly.  The stone is active now. That means the time for her to be taken is soon.  From the colors and markings I would say in the next group of sacrifices."

"Aw, man."  Henri bowed his head.  "I'll go pass the word to Jim and the others."

"He knows."  Blair replied, watching the fierce expression on Jim's face as he repeated AJ's words to Serena and Dan.  The forensic chief cursed and spun heading for the door followed by Simon and Joel.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?"  Brian asked the question he knew the others wanted to ask.

"I am one person.  I thought she was a willing sacrifice.  Those I cannot stop or interfere with.  It is forbidden."  

"She's a person and no one deserves to die like that."  Henri growled.

"If your friend jumps from the bridge, is it your fault?"  Fortaleza's face was calm, only her glittering eyes showing any emotion.  "I have tried to stop the willing before -- for my troubles I was shot.  My friend left me bleeding on the forest floor and walked up the steps to the altar of her own free will."

"I…" H's face fell as he realized his blunder.

"You didn't know, H."  Brian replied, turning his attention back to AJ.  "How did you get away?"

"Who said I did?"  The silver-green eyes went flat as she answered him.  "I was dragged to the alter, to watch her death. Afterwards I was given the honor of following her  – only the perfect shot of a passing group of hunters kept me alive. They had recognized me and stepped in. The ransom for my life nearly broke my people."

"That sucks."  Blair murmured.

"Hidalga?"  Jim's quiet voice and the hand he dropped on her shoulder were both gentle.  "You need to be heading out. Joel just went to pick up the Feds and we don't want them getting anywhere near you."

She nodded, "I'll leave you the map.  It needs to have the local gang territories marked on it, then you may be able to figure out the next place the cult will use."

"Got it."  Jim held her chair as she stood.  "No wandering around out there, do you understand me?"

She rolled her eyes at him in response.

"Actually, I need to talk to her for a minute before you take her back to the museum."  Rafe jumped in.  He gestured for Dan to wait another moment before leaving.  "Kyrie, do you have any pictures of Ayuane?  Dan needs one for the ID."

AJ closed her eyes and shook her head.  "No. No pictures here.  I can id the body and call his family."

"You knew the guy on the altar?"  Henri asked.  Blair and Jim both winced, realizing who it had to be.  They had seen the body in the museum and neither wanted to see it again.

She nodded and followed Rafe and Dan out the door.  The slump in her shoulders and the hesitant steps were painful to watch.

"That's gotta hurt."  Henri commented quietly.

  
"You don't even realize, H."  Jim murmured.  

Major Crimes Bullpen, Late Afternoon.

"Captain Banks. I'm Agent Devereaux, FBI. We're here to take care of this problem you have. You think it's a cult?"  The agent smiled slickly and extended his hand. 

"Agent Devereaux, have you ever heard of knocking before barging into a police captain's office?"  Simon Banks disliked the man on sight.  Not only was the insincere smile a dead give away as to the agent's feeling about the Cascade PD, but his words and attitude betrayed his disbelief over the situation.  Simon had worked with good FBI agents before and he had hoped that the agents sent from DC would be good ones this time, too. 

"My apologies, sir. I thought you would want to speak to me immediately."  Brown eyes glanced around the room, not impressed by what he saw.  "After all, your department has over 50 d-b's and wanted Quantico's opinion."

"Agent Devereaux, I requested an opinion on the sacrificial styles.  I did not request your agency to send you to me. I can always request that they have you returned to DC."  Simon growled, looming over the smaller man by several inches.  He measured the man with his eyes, noting that he would be smaller than Ellison and with his attitude, it was obvious Devereaux considered himself to be a big man.  He couldn't wait to see that meeting – it was bound to be an interesting one.

"No, sir, you cannot.  This happens to be part of the multi-state investigation and as such, it is a Federal matter."  The oily smile crossed his face again.  "Now, I would like to see your files on the foundry case and any others that you think may be linked to the investigation."

Simon knew there was a reason he had sent Ellison and Sandburg home for the day. He decided he then and there, he was not looking forward to the meeting between the Federal Agent and his top detective.  The man's attitude promised to enrage the ex-Ranger and that would cause nothing but trouble.

"We've got a conference room ready for you."  Simon found himself responding shortly.  He only hoped Henri had managed to get everything copied for his people's private files.  Otherwise, at least three detectives were going to get reprimanded for sneaking into the FBI agent's lair.  He just knew that this jerk was about to order them off the case.

Devereaux glanced around, noting the pictures and diagrams dispassionately before nodding.  He raised a hand imperiously, beckoning the silent suits waiting in the bullpen to join him. The senior agent didn't introduce them, Simon noticed.  Instead, he commented condescendingly, "This will do nicely, Captain Banks.  As soon as we've gone over the information, we'll go over it with your people.  Say, 8:00 tomorrow morning?"

Before Simon could reply, the man started to shut the door. Then he paused, "Oh, we were advised that there's photographer who's very familiar with this kind of stuff.  A Mr. E. Alex Fortaleza y Trujillo," the agent stumbled badly over the name.  "Have you heard of him?"

Simon kept his face expressionless, "Nope.  Never heard of him. Do you think he's part of the cult?"

"I was only told to look for the man.  My superior said he'd be helpful."  Devereaux smiled again.  "If you hear about him anywhere, please, let me know."  The agent shut the conference room door on Simon's face.

"Aw, hell."  Simon murmured under his breath.  Life just got a little bit harder.  Now, instead of making sure the Feds didn't find out about her, they had to actively keep Fortaleza out of the FBI's hands.  To make things worse, they were actively looking for her… but then again, they were looking for a him.  He smiled.  Cage was out of the country, if Simon played it just right, maybe he could convince Devereaux that Cage was Alex.  Maybe this would work.  He pulled out his cell phone; he had plans to make.


	14. Storm Surge

The Storm by Ronnee

Chapter 13: Storm Touches Down.

852 Prospect Ave, 18 November, 7:45 PM.

Simon stalked up the hallway, not particularly happy with the day's events and even less so with his suspicion that the week was going to get worse.  Between the federal agents who had taken over the cult case and the odd behavior of his chief detective, the police captain was about at the end of his rope.  And today as only Wednesday, he had two more days to get through.

Before he reached the door, Ellison opened it and waved him in.  "Hi, Simon.  That bad?"

"The feds want Fortaleza delivered to them."  Simon replied, tossing his gloves on the side table.  "Where are they?"

"Rafe took her home after she went to the morgue."  Blair handed him a beer, his eyes studying the captain intently.  "She id'd the victim at the museum and well, he's a VIP.  Second son of the Peruvian consul."

"Great. That must be why the Feds're claiming it so vehemently."  Simon took a swig of the beer and forcibly relaxed his shoulders.  "I have an idea on how to keep the Feds away from Alex Fortaleza.  AJ is your little sister, right? Did you ever fill out the visitor's paperwork?"

The sentinel shook his head, a grin spreading across his face as he realized what Simon was hinting at.  Just a little clerical error and a bit of fudged paperwork.  After all, if she were his sister, wouldn't they have the same last name? 

"Should we call and have them come over?"  Blair asked, heading for the phone.

"No.  Rafe was going to make sure she took her painkillers.  She's not going to be anything close to coherent until morning."  Jim replied with a smirk.  "We'll tell them in the morning."

"First, what exactly is AJ's real name? The FBI Special Agent in Charge called her E. Alex Fortaleza y Trujillo.  I thought she was AJ Fortaleza."  Simon began.

"Um," Blair frowned, thinking hard for a moment.

"Kyrie Eleason Alessandre Jacobo Fortaleza y Trujillo."  Jim rattled off the name and took a swig of his beer.  At the slightly stunned expressions on his friends' faces he shrugged.  "Once she told me the whole thing, I wasn't about to forget it."

"Oh." Simon frowned.  This might be harder than he thought.  "What's Cage's full name? I mean, what do the letters stand for?"

"Don't know."  Blair replied.  He looked over at his sentinel.

Jim stood and headed for his room.  It took him a moment to find the files he had gotten from his contacts.  He didn't think he had seen Cage's name anywhere in the files.  In fact, he hadn't seen AJ's name either.  He was slowly rereading the main file when he returned to the living room.  "Blair, remember those notes you made back when you first found out you were working with AJ? Do you still have them?"

Blair nodded and darted off to get his laptop.  It took him a few minutes to find the file he'd made and he skimmed it.  "Got it.  Looks like there are no notes on either of their full names.  You think his is pretty close to hers?"

"Yep."  Jim grabbed a book from the bookshelf and flipped to a photograph of the Peruvian mountains. He pointed to a small line of print.  "Why are some of Cage's pictures marked k.A.j?"  He turned to another picture, this one a Desert Storm battlefield, and pointed to the photo credit line.  "And then others are K.a.j.?"

Blair smiled and pointed to his notes.  "The same reason while there are more articles published under E. Alex Fortaleza, there are a lot under K Drew J Trujillo?"

Simon smiled.  His plan might definitely work.  "Good.  I'll let the Feds think they're looking for Cage – the photographer who isn't here.  You two figure a way to keep AJ under wraps and out of the way, without losing her input."

"That's easy.  As long as we update her on the progress on the murders, AJ has enough on her hands with the exhibit."  Blair grinned.  "And if Brian is free in the evenings – well, he'll keep her out of trouble."

The other two men nodded their agreement.  From what they had seen today, the young detective might have his hands full but they didn't doubt he would be able to keep AJ away from the FBI agents.

Rainier University Apartments, 11:30 PM.

The sound of whimpering made Rafe look up.  He had hoped the painkillers would give her a good night's sleep, but it looked like the dreams were back.  Shutting the case file and returning it to his briefcase, he stood.  Out of sheer force of habit, even though he knew logically that he wouldn't need it, he settled his holster more comfortably on his shoulders.  

"Kyrie? Wake up, love."  He whispered, approaching the side of the bed.  She tossed her head, a faint cry escaping her lips.  

_He thought he heard something and looked up – just in time to see the ceiling tile split above him.  He grabbed her shoulders and rolled, taking her over the side of the bed with him.  There was a dull thud as a wooden box dropped onto the floor where he'd been standing._

_"Brian?"  The dim light made her eyes pure silver as she stared at him. _

_He reached for the light and flicked it on.  "What did you have hidden up there?"_

_"Nothing."  Her voice was confused.  "I put the king knife in the museum vault weeks ago."_

_"Then what fell?" He asked, noting to himself that he should ask about the king knife.  What on earth was a king knife, and did he really want to know?_

_Together they stood and moved around the bed.  The wooden box was carved and painted with fanciful designs, captivating the detective's attention.  It seemed to shimmer and flicker in the light. The designs seemed to beckon him closer.  He noticed that the lid, carved with beautiful, coiling, feathered creatures he could not name, had broken off when the box hit the floor.  _

_He could see something shining against the dark, velvety lining and he stepped to the side to see it better. It burst into flight, scattering a rainbow of light as it burst free of the box.  It aimed itself just to the side of him, and he noted that its path would give him a perfect view of the object.  As it sped forward, light glimmering off sharp edges, his eyes widened and instinctively he reached for it, trying to move between it and its target._

_"Brian! Don't touch it!"  Kyrie's yelled warning came too late and his hand closed around the cold, stony hilt of the dagger, stopping it mere inches from her throat._

_"It's so beautiful."  He whispered, awe and admiration winging through him.  He stared at the faceted blade.  Its facets seemed to collect the dim light, intensifying it before releasing it again.  The pale, milky stone felt like raw silk, clinging slightly to his hand.  He tilted the blade from side to side, watching the light slide and sparkle along its narrow length._

_A thin rivulet of red slowly trickled down the blade's center groove, marring the perfection of the blade.  He frowned; for the first time he noted that he could no longer feel his hand. Uncurling his fist from the hilt, he saw the sharp, faceted edges, and the damage those edges had done.  He stared, disbelieving and confused, at the deep cuts slicing through his palm and his fingers.  But there was no pain – his hand was completely numb as the blood welled from the wounds._

_"Shh.  It's going to be okay.  I'll take care of it, querido."  Kyrie crooned in his ear, one hand wrapping around his wrist, pressing against the veins, and the other delicately plucking the stone weapon from his hand.  Her eyes glittered, tears racing down her cheeks as she dropped the knife back into its wooden box.  As the knife fell, its weight flipped the blade up and it landed hilt first. There it lay quietly, the red stains vanishing slowly._

_The moment the knife was out of his grasp, Rafe felt a deep burning pain race from his wounds up through his arm. The sheer agony dropped him to his knees, fighting to keep from screaming as it burned.  The pain was like acid in his blood, with every heartbeat, he could feel the fire spiral further through his body.  _

_Kyrie knelt with him, tying strips torn from her pajamas to the wounds.  Tears ran down her face and splashed onto the bandages, soaking the thin material further.  She whispered soft, unintelligible words as she worked, trying to comfort him – to give him something to concentrate on besides the pain.  Vaguely he noted that the pain vanished as her tears trickled over the wounds._

_It took him a moment to notice the occasional drop of red that fell from her fingers onto his skin. He froze, staring at it in confusion before reaching for her wrist.  Gently, he turned her hand, exposing it to his sight.  A thin series of cuts marred her fingertips and palm.  Even her light grip on the knife had been enough for the sharp, faceted edges to cut through flesh.  Her caution had rewarded her with milder wounds that only oozed blood, but from the way she flinched at his touch, he doubted the pain could be much less._

_"I'm sorry, love."  He whispered, bringing the wounded hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the worst of the wounds, "A kiss to make the pain go away."_

_For a moment, the pain flared higher and Rafe could not breathe through it. He felt Kyrie shudder in his grip.  Then it all was gone.  As his eyes went dark he could have sworn he heard the high, shrill shriek of a falcon._

Kyrie held him as he slowly sank into unconscious and they slid from the dream state. Unable to support his weight with her wounded hand, she let him sprawl on the bed, unconscious of the hand stroking his cheek.  With a competence that would have startled anyone watching, she stripped him out of his shoulder holster and placed it on the nightstand. Even though she knew she would not wake him, she found herself whispering in prayer,  "Please be a dream. Please don't do this. He doesn't know what it means.  Let it be a dream."  

Finally, after a long time, she stood and went into the other room.  There leaning against the balcony door was a carved box.  With a weary sigh, she opened the door and brought it inside.  She did not have to open it to know what was in it.  The cult knew.  There was nothing she could do to prevent the spread of the news.  Now that they knew who and what Brian was to her, the end was beginning. The knife was his now, forever, and always.  It was bound to his blood just like the king knife was bound to hers.  And she had no idea how to explain either of them to him or the sentinel and his guide.

Reflexively, following the conditioning of years, she hid the box away.  Unseen, maybe there was a slim chance at forgetting it.  For now she had work to do.  The cult's knowledge of Brian changed things.  She had calls to make and deals to broker.  She had to do something to find a way to get him out of the madness that was coming.

Rainier University Apartments, 19 November, 3A.M.

"Ese?"  Kyrie's voice startled Rafe awake.  It took him a second to figure out where he was as the last he remembered he had been working in the other room. The fear he heard in her voice had him out of bed and heading for the living room.  Grabbing his weapon from the bedside table, he froze in shock.  His hand was bound neatly in strips of a thin material.  Remembering the dream, he pulled off the bandage and stared at the healed slashes.  He was not going crazy.  They were there.  Hearing a murmur from the living room, he shelved his thoughts and, moving silently, followed the quiet sound of speech.

"Are you certain, Sarah?" She was leaning against the glass balcony door, one hand splayed against it to hold her upright.  She stared vacantly into the dark night sky, silent shudders wracking her body as she listened to the person on the other end of the line.  "Have you contacted Cage?  No, I can do that.  You need to close down the division and get yourself to safety.  I'll take care of warning the others.  Leave the net up, someone might need it.  Who took it down?"

Rafe settled on the arm of the sofa, keeping his attention focused on the tense figure.  He watched as her knuckles tightened on the receiver, until they were white with the force of her grip.  "Any good news?  Mine is bad, too.  Los Hijos – they are definitely here and I missed their arrival.  Mid-June.  Who can I contact to get the approval to pass on details? Yes, the Federales have arrived.  I don't think they'll be able to help.  No, I don't trust them either.  I'll work on it.  Listen, you need to get out of there. I'll handle everything else.  Grab the stuff you need and run. I'll leave a message on your voicemail if I need anything."  She listened for a long moment before silently disconnecting and letting her hand fall to her side.  Her forehead dropped until it was resting on the cold glass beside the hand supporting her.

Rafe stood, intending to go to her side when she moved; dropping the phone and slamming her fist into the glass door.  He froze, momentarily stunned by her actions.  Her fist slammed into the safety glass a second time before he could react.  He grabbed her fist, wrapping his hand around it, "Kyrie! Stop!"

She turned, eyes opening to focus on his face.  Fear, fury, and then confusion echoed in her voice.  "Que? Brian?  When?  I didn't hear you wake up."

He held onto her hand until he was certain she recognized him.  "What happened?"

She shook her head wordlessly, ignoring the angry tears that streaked her face.  With a desperate strength, she pulled out of his hold and began pacing restlessly around the room.  As she paced, Brian noticed she was gathering things and dropping them on the coffee table. Her embroidered vest, a journal, her medicine pouch, a small set of throwing of knives, odd-looking stone and ceramic pots, a set of woven boxes, a crate newly arrived from Brazil; they were all quickly moved. 

He watched silently as she smoothed out the vest, carefully unknotting tiny ties.  Then she began systematically sliding pouches from the medicine bag to the vest, tying them in place.  Groups of leather-enclosed darts were inspected and set aside as were the contents of one of the woven boxes. The throwing knives were attached to hidden sheathes so that their hilts looked like ornamentation.

"Kyrie, you need to talk to me."  Brian knew something was badly wrong.  It looked like she was getting ready for trouble.

"They took out Ese and the researchers.  I had to close down Rovers."   She didn't look at him as she spoke, concentrating on what her hands were doing.

The words made no sense, not to him, but the pain in her voice told him it wasn't something he could ignore. He saw the micro-cassette recorder and understood.  "You dreamed again, didn't you?"

"Yes."  She finished with the vest and set it aside. 

"Tell me about it, please."  Brian's soft request made her look up.  He could see the stark fear and pain in her eyes and it rocked him.  He felt like he was loosing her, bit by bit.  "Don't shut me out."

"I saw Ese – saw him fall to the masked ones."  Her voice was curiously flat.  "But it makes no sense, they are here.  I called his home in Washington but there was no answer.  I called the offices.  No answer.  I called Sarah – she said Ese purged my information before they broke into the offices.  Now only Cage and I are left – we are the last who know anything about the Children of the Sun."

She turned back to her work, breaking open the customs seals on the crate and pulling the nails from the lid.  She pulled a small wooden box from the crate and began setting up a tiny brazier inside a slick looking black stone bowl.  Within minutes she had a small pot of simmering herbs and whatever else she'd thrown into it.  Rafe only knew it looked strange – the gray powdery caked things she had added to the fresh herbs had dissolved as soon as they hit the water.  And the scent was – different. Not bad, just different.

The soft chirruping sound of her phone made him glance at it.  The woman ignored it, carefully adding another herb to the pot.  Rafe stood and went over to where it lay, and at her disinterested shrug picked it up.  "Hello?"

"Menina?"  The warm, accented voice was puzzled.  It stiffened.  "Where is Fortaleza?"

"Who's calling?"  Brian asked quietly.

"Tell Cage, I'm busy.  I'll take the phone in a moment."  Kyrie called, not looking up from her work.

He repeated that to the man on the phone and there was a short silence. Then Cage asked, "Who the f*** are you?"

"Detective Brian Rafe."  He replied.

"Detective? Is Fortaleza in trouble?" 

"Kyrie is fine, she's just busy."  Brian replied, shaking his head at the man's cautious questions.

"Kyrie? She told you her true name?" Pure astonishment rang through the phone lines.  

Before Brian could respond, she was at his side, taking the phone from him.  "Cage.  Bad news. Bad information. First known strike seems to have been in July, that makes it probable that they've been in Cascade since early spring – my guess is February or March."

The business-like tone of voice got his attention.  She had returned to the coffee table and was curled up on the floor next to it. She fidgeted with her journal.  Watching her, he sat on the sofa, not quite close enough to touch her, but close enough she could reach out to him if she wanted support.  "No. I didn't dream when I first got here – I was drinking the tea.  Three days ago they broke through the tea. Yes, I know what that means."  She bowed her head at the response.  "It's my life, not yours… I haven't found the wall of seeing corpses but there is no way they can be this far along without that ritual…  Keirnan, it's bad…  No, I don't think that will work, this is too far along…  How many are missing from the tribes?  Who are they?"

There was a long silence during which Kyrie began writing in the journal.  Rafe watched as she quickly noted the names, dipping her pen in the ink well time and time again.  Three columns of names formed on the cream colored page.  

"Ayuane is already among the dead. That means Tito will be sacrificed tonight if I can't find them.  Cage – they got Ese from his home."  She paused, looking over at Brian and smiled, her eyes softening.  "Yes, I'm being careful…  Yes, I trust him.  He wouldn't be here otherwise…  I promise to introduce you two when you get here." She listened for a moment and shook her head with a grin. "I promise."  

"Did you find out about the release?  The Federales said that?  Okay, I can manage.  How long before they come looking for me? You clipped it to the old reports?  Mmmm.  Yeah, that might keep them off my back, but it makes them think you are the one they want."  She hesitated for a moment before adding, "Don't trust Matheson. I dreamed him.  If anything goes bad … go to Cascade's central precinct, the Major Crimes Unit.  That's where Brian works.  Or you can talk to Jim Ellison – remember Incacha's Enqueri?  Yeah, same man.  He'll help you.  How long will it take?  When did you go to Viet Nam? When will you know your route? Call me when you know.  Take care; you're a target now.  Blood kin is best for the final rounds, you know that."

Kyrie closed the connection and dropped the phone on the table.  She leaned back, resting her head on Brian's thigh.  He let his hand rest on her head, his fingers gently massaging her scalp.  "Are you going to tell me about it?"

"My tribesmen have been vanishing.  Enough to perform a formal sacrifice, the kind used to signal the end of times. That means they are actively going to be hunting for a way to get my cooperation. Ese runs a research group on the East Coast.  He vanished several days ago and his complex was looted last night. But they didn't get any information on me because he purged my files three weeks ago.  I didn't even know he was in danger."  She whispered, one hand curling around his calf as she spoke.  Brian could feel the wetness of her tears as they landed on his leg. "I should have known, I should have warned them."

"You aren't the one doing this, Kyrie."  He soothed.  He knew she wasn't sleeping thanks to the dreams and that had to be contributing to the desperation in her voice.  "You can't be everywhere or fix everything."

"I'm supposed to stop these people, Brian.  And I haven't been able to – they keep moving faster than I can."

"That's because you've been working alone.  Now, you've got us to help, but you have to let us help."  He pulled her up, forcing her to stand.  "Can you leave that stuff or does it have to be watched?"

Kyrie looked at the brazier and shook her head no.  "It needs to simmer until this afternoon.  I just have to keep it from drying out."

"Come on, then.  Let's get you to bed.  I'll keep it from burning and you – you get some sleep." He led her to the bedroom.  Gently he pushed her onto the bed, removed her oversized T-shirt, and began kneading the tense muscles in her shoulders.  "It'll be all right while I get you to sleep.  Just relax and let me take care of everything."

He let his fingers dig in, breaking up the knots of tension before gently soothing the muscles back into place.  As he worked, he stared at the scars and the tattoos that marred her skin, wondering how many times she had stood alone, trying to protect her tribe.  Part of him wanted to shake her out of her relaxation and demand that she promise to stay alive for him.  Another part of him wanted to bundle her up and hide her away from the crazies running loose in Cascade.  

As Joel would say, he'd moved too far too fast and he was lost.  He knew it.  If her fears were realized, Brian Rafe knew he would be worse off than he had been that day in South Africa.  His sixteenth birthday had been hell, but it hadn't taken away his soul.  He wasn't certain he would survive if he lost Kyrie.  Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the movements of his hands against her back.  He wasn't going to think about it.  Not now, not later – because it wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it.

852 Prospect Ave, Apartment 307, 7 A.M.

"Aw, man, it never rains.  It pours." Blair's gripe made the sentinel look up at him.  The anthropologist was staring at his computer in disgust.  "Someone flooded my e-mail.  I've got over a thousand e-mail messages."

"Spam?"  Jim asked quietly, trying not to laugh. The idea that people could send 'Spam' over the Internet made him chuckle every time.  

"No. It doesn't look like it."  Blair murmured, reading the first message.  "No way, man. This is so not cool."  With a flurry of quick clicks, he switched screens to his web browser.  He typed in a password and cursed.  Quickly he tried another URL.  Another stark white screen came up, stating harshly, 'Error, the URL is not valid'.  He entered another and a warning popped up.  'This site removed by owner, please delete your bookmark.' The fingers were still for a moment and then another URL was typed in.  This time a web page appeared. 

The light blue background was calming but the flashing symbols around the edges of the page were glaring.  The words scrolling across the banner made Blair frown as he read them aloud.  "Rovers, Inc. is closed until further notice. Due to technical problems, this site and all related sites are not available.  Please, be patient with us. Code 4921."  

"What's up?" Jim was standing behind the younger man.

"Well, the first of those e-mail I got was from the main Rover account.  It said they were dumping all information they had on hyperactive senses to my account and then closing down.  It wasn't what they said, it was how they said it."  Blair replied, pulling up the e-mail again.  

Jim whistled as he read the words on the screen.

Mr. Sandburg,

If you get this message, then I have been unavailable for over 72 hours. It seems that one of our projects may have had unforeseen consequences.  All of my files on hyperactive senses will be following this email.  Due to the nature of your research, and to protect you and any subjects of study that you have, by this time your file will have been purged from our system. I have already arranged that your next grant installment be routed to you through another means to protect your research.  My deepest apologies for any inconvenience this may cause. 

Rover S

"It doesn't look good, Chief." 

"Jim, they don't have anything about my research.  Nothing at all. I never gave them the parameters about sentinels."  Blair said softly.  "I helped some people in Europe with a single overactive sense, nothing like what you've got.  So why did they feel they had to protect me?"

"I don't know."  Jim's voice was puzzled.  "Unless they already knew about me."

"But how would they know… oh, man.  Brackett?"

"He's still in prison." The tense reply was followed a hand landing on Blair's shoulder.  "This is something else.  I think we need to go see Fortaleza."

"Huh?"  

"She's one of them, or Cage is."  Jim reminded his guide.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Let me grab my stuff."

"I'll call Rafe and warn him we're on our way."

Rainier University Apartments.

"She's still asleep."  Brian met them at the door, dragging it open before they even got a chance to knock.

"Rough night?"  Jim asked, eyeing the younger detective curiously.  He wasn't sure he had ever seen the dapper detective so – human looking.

Rafe was unshaven, his hair out of place, and his clothes were obviously the same ones he'd been wearing the day before.  "Damn visions woke her a couple of times.  I managed to get her to sleep around four thirty or so."

"Sounds like you didn't get much sleep either."  The sentinel moved over to the brazier, and added a little water to the mixture.  "When did she start mixing this up?"

"Sometime early this morning."  Brian moved to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.  He set out fresh mugs and gestured at them. "There's coffee if you want it."

Blair nodded, moving to fill them.  "Do you know what she dreamed?"

"It's on tape." Rafe sipped at his coffee.  "So, what's so important?"

"Has she said anything about a group called Rovers?"  Ellison asked quietly, picking up herb pouches and checking them.  Finding the one he wanted, he carefully added a small pinch to the pot.

"Yes, a little. Hey, what are you doing?" The other man glared at the sentinel.  

"We need to ask her about them."  Jim ignored Rafe, cocking his head for a second.  Then he grinned.  "Better make a cup for AJ, Chief.  She's going to need it."

The bedroom door opened and a very groggy figure appeared.  Her bare feet barely made a sound as she stumbled into the room.    
  


"Well, I wondered what you'd done with my sweatshirt, Chief."  Jim tried not to laugh at the sight of AJ wearing his worn Cascade PD sweatshirt.  Her small frame was lost in it.  The look was only accented by a pair of Blair's old blue sweat pants draping over her feet and nearly hiding them.  Between the two borrowed items, she looked like a four or five-year-old, all she needed was a stuffed animal in the crook of her arm to complete the picture.

"I told you, it wasn't me."  Blair passed a coffee cup into the hand that appeared from the folds of the sweatshirt.  He chuckled as AJ shook her hair out of her face. "You look like Cousin It."

"Who?"  She frowned, sipping at the coffee blearily.

"Never mind."  He quickly fixed another mug of coffee for himself and grabbed Jim's before following her back out to the living room. He watched silently as she collapsed slowly onto the sofa.   She waited for a moment until Brian was sitting next to her and then leaned on him.  Blair grinned at the drowsy picture they made, sipping their coffee, obviously not all the way awake.

"AJ?"  Jim settled on the edge of the coffee table, poking briefly at the simmering stuff over the brazier.  "Why are you mixing this up?"

"Gonna need it."  She whispered, pushing her hair behind her ears.  "Storm's here.  Defenses already breeched, guards down, enemy inside."

"Storm? What storm?"  Blair asked, bewildered.  The sky was a clear, pale blue through the window. Offering a mug to his sentinel, he settled on the only free seat in the room, a packing crate he hadn't seen before.

"She's not talking about a physical storm, Chief."  Jim replied, taking the mug and sipping from it.  "You know what happened to the Rovers?"

She nodded.  "Ordered them to close down.  Someone tried to raid the research database.  Ese had already purged the files they wanted though."

"Ese?"  Jim shot a look at her.  "Who is Ese?"

"Rover S.  Ese is Spanish for 's'."  She shrugged, eyes closed as she alternately sipped her coffee and answered Jim's quiet questions.  "Why?"

"What's his full name?"

"Sage. Samuel Andreas Marshall Johnson."    
  


"We've met him." He growled as Blair choked on his coffee and Brian stiffened in surprise.

The terse words brought her head up, eyes wide with astonishment, adrenaline shocking her fully awake. "When? He never said anything about it."

"This past summer, there was a series of murders."  Rafe replied, remembering the case.  "Serial killer with a penchant for killing families.  He killed a bunch of Johnson's family here in Cascade.  He tried for Jim and Blair, too."

"If Sam's missing, what happened to the kids?" Blair asked.

AJ had already grabbed her cell phone and was dialing.  "Sarah? It's me again. If you can, call me.  I need to know about what happened this summer.  Where are the kids?"  She hung up and dialed another number.  "Cage… found the link over the summer. Ese tell you about an attack on his family?"

Jim dialed up his hearing, and listened to the voice on the other line.  

"Yeah.  It was pretty bad too.  Lost a lot of folks.  Are you saying it happened in Cascade?  The same Cascade where you are?" 

"Yes.  Do you have any information on it?"  All the sleepiness was gone as she sat up and grabbed her journal.

"All the adults and some of the little ones were killed.  You'd have to see about getting the police files.  The Rover sites are already down, no way to access them for it.  Don't tell me, I can guess, the wall of eyes?"  Cage's voice sounded breathless and Jim could hear the sound of many feet breaking out into a jog. "Look, I'm going to see about chartering a flight over to Taipei. That'll cut six days off my travel time. I'll cancel the run to Peru.  The team can order the rest of the tribes to safety. That cuts another ten days off my time. Don't do anything stupid before I get there." 

"Right.  You know me, I won't."

"Kyrie, I'm serious. Even if I shave off as much time as I can, there is no way I can get to Cascade in less than five days. And I don't know if I can get there that fast."  There was anger underlying his words.  "I've checked the local airbase, Colonel Travis is there. He owes us.  Call him and get the hell out of there.  Please, kid.  It's too dangerous for you." 

AJ looked up at Jim and smiled, and the resignation there made him shiver.  "He sido consagrada, hermanito. No puedo irme antes del fin de este paso de la luna.[1]"  Jim heard the protest as AJ terminated the call but he couldn't understand the words the other man used.  She shook her head at him, her eyes shuttered.  "If Sarah can she'll call me and tell me how the children are doing."

"What was Cage going on about?"  Jim asked soberly.

"Nothing for you to worry about."  She replied serenely, stirring the mixture in the porcelain pot.  "You wanted information on Rovers?  They are the research group behind a lot of my travels. When I'm not working for Abraham and his people, I work with them – guiding parties into areas where few have traveled.  It's fun. I've seen and photographed rivers that no one else except the locals had seen.  I've met tribes that are still considered 'myths'. When they want researchers to go somewhere, I'm one of the first they call."

"Great. Why doesn't that reassure me?"  Jim growled.  "Your friends are just another government agency trying to exploit the locals."

"Because you're paranoid?"  She shook her head.  "Cage works for different news agencies and sometimes the U.S. Government.  I act as a guide for people who know how to contact me. Rovers, Inc. does a lot of research on indigenous medical procedures, native cures, legends, lore, and mysteries of all kinds.  They contact me a lot because I can usually guide their groups into areas no one else can go. And when I refuse to go, they have always dropped the expedition.  The researcher is welcome to try another means to get there, but he or she will lose all backing from Ese's people."

 "Sounds like blackmail to me."

AJ glared at him. "I'm not going to argue over it now.  I'm too tired and too busy. What else did you want to know?"

  
"Why close them down?"

"Someone tried to access sealed files.  Private research. Things that could be used against other people – whether it's the researcher or the subject doesn't matter to us."  Using a pair of tongs she poured the herbal mix into a larger pot and tossed in a bright yellow block. The sentinel pulled away, his nose wrinkling in distaste.  She tossed him an unopened leather pouch and he held it close, trying to negate the scent of the stuff she had dropped into the pot.  "One of the tenants of the incorporation is that all documented research will be protected.  That means closing everything down while security is reconsidered and reevaluated. Once we consider it safe, we'll re-establish the websites and reopen the research venues."

"We?"

AJ blinked and looked at Blair.  "I'm a member of long standing. Zel is on the board of directors. Ese is on the board of directors. So are seven other men and women. All of them know how dangerous it could be if some… overzealous group managed to get their hands on the unfinished data."

"And when your research is finished?"  

She grinned impishly. "Mine? My research is unending… my personal favorite is the medicinal uses of plants. Not that I get much time for it. Someday, maybe I'll get to analysis, right now I'm just writing stacks of green journals of plants and their uses. Other people, well, Rovers doesn't force them to publish or to hold back from publishing. That's not what we do."

"So, they're closed down.  How long until they reopen?"  Jim asked guardedly. 

"Depends. I'm not on the reevaluation team. Ese is missing. Rage is busy… he won't be available until mid-December at the earliest."  She reached for the coffee cup and looked in it.  Seeing it was empty she glared before standing and heading for the kitchen.  "That's all I know."

Jim nodded, still curious about the conversation she'd had with Cage. But he knew from experience that she wasn't about to discuss it.  "I think you need to make sure one of us is with you from now on."

AJ froze, and turned.  "I'm fine. Headache's almost gone. And I'm not going anywhere, so there's no need for someone to stay with me."

"AJ!"

  
"Hidalga!"

"Kyrie!"

At the three men's growls, she raised her hand.  "Fine.  I yield.  But only if it's someone I know."

The men traded silent looks as she ducked into the kitchen for more coffee.  They silently agreed that it was too easy.  They knew she was planning something.

Major Crimes Bullpen, mid-morning.

"Hey, Chief?" Jim looked up to see if any of the Feds were around.  Once he noted they were all hidden in the conference room, he turned back to his phone.  As a protective measure, Blair was staying as far from the Feds as the sentinel could keep him. "I've got a question for you. Kyrie told Cage that she'd been made consegrada.  Do you know anything about how that's done?"

"I don't think I've read anything about it, Jim."  Blair turned away for a moment to point a student in the right direction before turning his attention back to his sentinel.  "I mean, Zelinski's journals are the only source I've been able to find and they don't tell me much beyond the hidalgo and sagrado stages.  Want me to head to her place and ask?"

"I don't think she's going to talk about it," The detective sighed. A voice calling his name made him look up from the phone and he frowned.  "Great, the almighty Feds just summoned me. Gotta go."

Rainier University Apartments, mid morning.

"Good afternoon."  Megan Connor strode into the living room with a smile.  She was still tickled over the whole relationship issue between Brian Rafe, AJ Fortaleza, Jim Ellison, and Blair Sandburg.  As she'd whispered to Henri, watching the four of them maneuver was almost as good as a soap opera.

"Megan?"  AJ looked around, bewildered.  She had been so immersed in studying Zelinski's journals that she hadn't noticed the trade off between one guard and the other.  "Where did Henri go?"

"He had to get back to the station before the Feds realized he was missing."  The Australian was trying not to laugh at the younger woman's dismayed reaction.  "No worries, mate.  None of us are about to let the FBI near this place.  Jim and Sandy explained your situation to all of us."

"My situation?"  AJ laid her pen down and turned all of her attention on the Inspector.  "And what, exactly, is my situation?"

"Well, it's not your fault that you and Cage get confused so much… you're both photographers, know a lot about things the government would prefer was forgotten, and have worked together for years."  Still smiling, Megan headed for the kitchen.  "So, do you have any coffee around here?"

Casting a quick look at the brazier, the photographer stood and joined her.  "None made.  Brian says my coffee is terrible and made me promise not to make any more."

"Rafe complained about your coffee?"  Megan gasped in amazement.  "That boy makes the thickest, blackest, foulest coffee in the office."

"No, he said I could have his 'official' title."  AJ grinned wickedly, pulling a container of gourmet coffee from the freezer.  "And Brian makes very good coffee."

The older woman laughed, "well, his reputation makes sure he doesn't get stuck with making coffee at the office."

"Yes. He cooks too."

"Does he?"  Megan chuckled.  "Seems like you're learning all of his secrets."

AJ caught the underlying tone in the inspector's voice and looked up.  Megan was carefully measuring the coffee grounds into the filter, studiously keeping her attention on the coffee, but her tense shoulders gave her away.  "You are worried about him, like Henri."

"You and Brian are moving awfully fast, AJ."  Megan smiled softly, reassuringly.  "We don't want either of you to be hurt."

"Megan, I will do anything to protect him."  The younger woman dropped all pretense, letting the detective see what she felt.  "And that means a lot.  I've already passed the word to every contact I have to keep an eye on him and keep him safe."

"That's not what I mean," Megan began.

"You don't understand me.  My people don't take this kind of thing lightly – we don't 'play around' as the Americanos put it."  She looked down at the floor, scuffing her boots nervously.  "If he wants me to stay after all this is over, I will do everything I can to do so.  If… if he doesn't ever want to see me again once the Cult is stopped, I disappear.  I have obligations to fulfill, but then I will do whatever I can to make him happy, no matter the cost."

"AJ--" Megan protested.

"This discussion is over."  AJ smiled sadly and stepped back into the living room.  She checked the simmering herbs, knowing that Megan's eyes were still on her.  Judging the time to be right, she blew out the tiny fire.  Then she rigged the traveling frame around the brazier, fitting the poles into the obsidian base and latching the tiny metal hooks into position.  Once the frame was finished, she placed darts, point down, into racks, and lowered them so the first inch was in the still simmering liquid.

"What are you doing?"  Megan asked quietly.

"Preparing for war."  She replied curtly, returning her attention to the faded words in the journal.  After a moments silence, she added, "Don't touch these when they're done – unless you want a fast trip to the hospital."

The Major Crimes Bullpen, 11 A.M.

"Listen Ellison, we want to know where you got this information."  Devereaux plastered a fake smile on his face as he confronted the tall detective.

"My sources are confidential.  I don't give them away."  Jim repeated himself for the fifth or sixth time.

He was getting very tired of the inquisition he was undergoing.  "So what new information have you managed to get?"

"We're asking the questions, Detective." Another FBI agent replied.  Taking over the interrogation, he sat across from Jim, no smile on his face, just plain determination on it.  "We understand you dislike losing the case to us, but you need to cooperate so we can stop the killings."

"I don't see you investigating anything.  I just see you going over my notes and drinking coffee."  Jim retorted.  "Why don't you get off your collective a**** and do some of your own work?"

"We need to talk to Alex.  Where is he?" Devereaux jumped back into the fray.

"I don't know anyone named Alex."  Jim kept his face impassive as he spoke.  He really was beginning to despise Devereaux.

"Look, we understand that Fortaleza has had a hard time, but we need to speak to him.  He can help stop the killings."

Jim smiled brightly.  "Why didn't you tell me this Alex Fortaleza was your suspect?  Give me a description of him and I'll get it to the guys in patrol."

The slight choking gasp of the youngest FBI agent almost made Jim lose his control.  The young man was trying very hard not to laugh as he watch the detective foil his superiors and dodge their questions.

"No, no, no. Alex is not a suspect."  Devereaux shook his head, trying to catch up.  "He's from the mountains of South America, the same place the cult may originate.  He's probably the best guide to the people and area to be found.  We think he can help us locate the cult."

"Mmmm."  Jim nodded, interested in finding out their story.  "So he can help?  Okay, I'll keep my eyes open."

"Ellison, I need you out here, now."  Simon Banks opened the door enough to bellow into the conference room and slammed it shut again.

"Well, I'd better get out there."  He smiled apologetically and stood.  "So, do you have any pictures or a description of this guy?"

"Not yet. We'll get one to you as soon as we can."  Devereaux seemed to believe that the big detective was actually going to help him.  

Jim joined the other detectives in the main part of the bullpen, curious about the stern summons.  He noticed that Henri and Rafe were checking the fit of their bullet-proof vests and that Rafe had a rifle case on his desk.  

"What's happening?"

"Two things.  First, Cassie and her escort never made it in to work this morning."  Henri replied, pulling on his flack jacket.  "Second, there's a hostage situation on First Ave."

"You've got the hostage situation."  Jim nodded to the rifle Rafe was checking over.  

"Mark's down with the flu and Paul broke his wrist last night."  Brian replied, placing the weapon back in its case.  "That means I'm on call."

"And I'm his partner, so I go too."  Henri responded to the arched eyebrow.

"Good luck."  Jim was sincere, even if it meant he was stuck finding out where Cassie and her two police guards had gone.  The slight whiff of flowery perfume told him who was next to him.  "You're my partner for the afternoon, Cath?"

The ex-Marine smiled. "We figured that Cassie might need a lady who's seen just about everything."

He nodded grimly.  _Yep, if Cassie was still alive, she was going to need someone to put her back together._

Cascade Heights Apartments, just a few minutes later.

Jim shuddered as he looked around the remains of Cassie Welles apartment. The sheer amount of blood was nearly overwhelming.  He staggered out into the hallway, Catherine Grayson, strong-stomached Marine that she was, right behind him.

The sentinel pulled out his cell phone and dialed the precinct.  "Simon?  We need a clean-up crew, the coroners, and a lot of help.  Yeah, it's bad.  Real bad."

"I don't think I've ever seen such –" The coal black eyes of the other detective were horrified.

"I think she made someone very angry."  He replied.  He dialed another number.  "Sandburg?  Anything unusual at the museum today?  I want you to get everyone out of there.  I don't care how. Then get to AJ's and stay with her and Megan."

"You think they took her there?"  Catherine asked, leaning against the doorframe to regain her balance.  She looked down at her shoes and shuddered at the red stain they left on the doormat.

"I don't think so, but just in case."

"Why do the Feds want your sister?"  There was no accusation in her eyes, just a calm curiosity.  She, like the rest of Major Crimes, was ignoring the rumors and bits of information they heard and denying all knowledge about the Fortaleza the FBI agents were hunting so diligently.

"They've been stonewalling.  AJ's one of the few people who have seen this group in action and survived."  Jim shrugged uneasily.  "She's breaking the rules by talking about it, even if she doesn't give us any real information about the group.  Just telling us how to locate the cult is technically illegal."

Catherine nodded. "And the bureaucrats want her in the slammer for opening her mouth."

"You got it."

"Is she a target?"

"If the cult realizes who she is – she's their ultimate goal."  He looked over at the tall, dark-skinned woman, letting her see his worry.  "She would literally walk over to their altars to keep us out of the fray if she could. I'm trying to keep her under wraps so she can help us find their leader."

"If we stop him, we stop the killings?"  

"That's the idea."  

"All right."  Catherine smiled.  "I'll keep quiet.  Add me to the bodyguard roster."

"Thanks."  Jim replied.  He had worried about her reaction to the obvious deception.  Catherine had been a lifer, twenty years in the Marine Corps.  The death of her husband, leaving her a single mother of two teenagers, had given her the impetus to leave.  A career in the Cascade PD, with good local schools, a decent university, easy access to the larger cities of Seattle and Tacoma, and affordable housing had seemed a godsend to the ex-Marine.  She was still trying to fit in with the rest of the department, but slowly it was all settling into place.  And her acceptance of Jim's need to protect both his guide and his 'sister' was just another piece cementing her to the group.

Rainier University Housing, 1 P.M.

With a final glare at the notes, AJ straightened.  She glanced at the rows of drying darts and nodded to herself, satisfied.  For the past two hours, she had worked had at deciphering her guardian's notes to little avail, intent on ignoring the Australian.  After realizing how upset she had made the younger woman, Megan had quietly stationed herself between the door and the researcher, a book in her hand and her pistol in her lap.

"Are you still angry?"  The soft words were an entreaty.  Megan had not intended to cause the other woman any pain.  

"No." AJ looked over at her and smiled softly.  "You protect your friend.  I protect my love.  We do the same thing, we are not enemies – allies I think."

"Friends." Megan answered the unspoken question.  "So what do you plan on doing for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Do you like pictures? I've done as much as I can here.  When I'm finished I'll give my notes to Jim and he can pass the useful parts to Major Crimes."  She stretched stiffly and began piling the journals and books into two groups.  It only took a moment and the disarray that had covered the coffee table, sofa, and rug around her was gone.  Standing, she took books from a stack and started shelving them.  "I haven't had time to sort my photos in quite a while."

"Sounds like a plan.  Want some help with that?"  Megan dropped her book into her shoulder bag and holstered the pistol at the small of her back.  She stood and picked up the rest of the stack.

"Thank you." AJ took the offered books with a grimace.  "I should have remembered to work at the big table."

"We aren't going to be working at the coffee table, are we?" Megan asked with a frown. She really didn't want to curl up on the floor – not after seeing the pained movements the younger woman was making.

"No."  She shuddered, putting the last book away.  "Could you pour me some more coffee? I'll get the photos."

Megan poured the coffee and placed it on the kitchen table.  She could feel her eyebrows rise at the pile of unmarked, white envelopes and photograph boxes.  The photographer grinned sheepishly as she set down another box.

"Are these all the photographs you've taken?"

"Most of them."  AJ blushed at the startled look she received. "I take a lot of pictures – on a slow day, I think I took three rolls.  Yesterday, at the museum, I shot fifteen rolls before eleven a.m."

"Oh, my."  The inspector took a sip of her coffee.  "And these are the ones you haven't had time to sort?"

"Some I already sorted and wrote up.  The stuff in these boxes is finished." She gestured at the majority of the boxes.  "The stuff in the envelopes I have to check  -- see if it's worth keeping.  The film in this box, I haven't developed."

"How do you keep track of it?"

"Every canister I shoot, I label.  I keep a notebook of where, when, what I photograph.  When I develop the film, I write the code on the negatives, the pictures, and on the contact sheets. Then when I get home, I move the contact sheets to the notebook.  I just have to match the notes to the photos and choose the shots I think I can use.  Those I develop into pictures.  Sometimes, the pictures don't look like I expect and I have to choose others. Sometimes I don't find anything I like."  AJ grinned at Megan's expression. "I have to be organized – I shoot too much not to be."

"And Blair complains that Jim is too organized for normal humans."  Megan murmured under her breath as the photographer began spreading out the oversized contact sheets.  Each sheet contained miniature copies of all the photos for a roll of film.  The Australian quit complaining as she was drawn into sorting and cataloging the other woman's pictures of Cascade.

When Blair arrived, he quickly became enmeshed in their work, enjoying the unusual activity.  He had not seen her working with her photographs since the day she'd handed him Cage's photo of Major Crimes in action.  The sheer amount of her own work she had left undone so she could spend time on the exhibit or tracking down the cult amazed him.  Every place she visited was photographed, whether on campus or off, many in detail.  Everything that caught her eye, no matter how mundane or bizarre, she photographed for later study. 

"How many rolls of film have you developed?"  Blair asked curiously, matching a set of photographs of the Octoberfest to the note page.  

"Depends on the day."  AJ was staring at a photograph, eying the crowded scene with a frown.  She worried at her lower lip, trying to figure out what bothered her about the picture.  "I tried, at least when I first got here, to develop all the film from one day during my class.  Used my film to show the students different techniques."

"Why don't you still do that?"  Megan put down the contact sheet she was studying to watch her.  The photographer was shuffling between several pictures, all crowd scenes but none from the same location.

"Too many rolls of film some days.  Not enough on others."  She kept finding the same face.  It had to be a coincidence.  AJ picked up her notebook and removed the pages whose serial numbers matched the photos in her hand.  Checking the dates and locations, she frowned even more. 

Ignoring the confused expressions on Megan and Blair's faces, AJ closed her eyes.  Still worrying her lip and ignoring the two people watching her, she thought back, trying to match the odd face to her memory.  Yes, she had definitely seen him a lot lately.  Almost too much.  No, she had definitely seen him too many times for it to be a coincidence.  She pulled a contact sheet from the stack in front of Megan, searching for a good shot of the man.  Locating it, she looked up the picture number and found an 8x10 of it.  She placed it in front of Blair.  "Do you know him?"

"No."  Blair responded after a moment's study of the face.  "Why?"

"Give me some time to think about this." AJ quickly began pulling random photographs from the boxes, placing them face down on the table. Once she had taken pictures from every box, she did the same with the photographs from the remaining envelopes.  Then she started over going from the boxes to the envelopes, until all the free space on the table was covered.  Her mind was racing as she worked, hoping she was wrong.

The first photograph she turned over was a photograph taken during the Cascade Halloween parade.  The shot was taken from the Waterfront Plaza, it wasn't a crowd shot – just a simple picture of people readying the their floats for the parade.  There, in the corner of the photo, facing the camera, was her mystery man.

She scanned the photos, her eyes moving from one to another quickly.  He was only in five pictures from the random grouping.  She quickly juggled the numbers, trying to figure out the percentages, the chance it would be for this to be coincidence.  If it was coincidence, why was her skin crawling?

AJ stared at her photographs.  As she scanned them, she noticed that every so often, familiar faces were appearing.  At first, she thought they must be students she saw regularly, maybe in the photo lab or one of the anthro lectures she had assisted. Then it hit her, they were appearing only on the fringes of the shots and she had never met them.  

She frowned and automatically began resorting the pictures. She sorted them by the day each was taken.  Then she sorted each by the time and place where they were shot.  Then she removed a picture from each and every group missed by her original random pull of pictures, filing the new pictures into the piles until every roll of film developed was represented.  A glance through the first two piles of photos, the one from her first venture into Cascade, showed her the truth.  

The photographer in her could not believe she had missed something so obvious.  She pulled open the box of contact sheets and her magnifying glass, confirming to herself that she was definitely under surveillance.  The anthropologist in her noted that the city was not her normal venue and excused her for missing the people watching her every move.  The part of her trained to be sagrada, to protect her people only raised an eyebrow in understanding. None of her people would blame her. Cascade was not her territory, nor had she been made part of the local tribe until just recently. She still blamed herself, though.

 She had marked those areas where she knew people – the University she had surrounded by her markers, protecting the grounds themselves, the buildings where Jim, Blair, and Brian lived and worked, and with great difficulty the Capítan's house on the other side of Cascade.  She had made it a sacrilege for anyone to be forcibly taken from those places.  But the rest of Cascade was an open hunting range, and its citizens, for the most part, did not know they were being hunted.  She had failed them by being too many steps behind the cult leader's and being unable to catch up to him.

AJ stood, going over to the bookshelves.  Around her she could hear the soft sound of conversation.  She had silently noted Enqueri's arrival.  Her curt headshake had irritated the sentinel, but he had subsided, joining his guide and Megan, talking softly and watching her work.  She pulled out a slim journal of bound graph paper, made certain it was blank, and carried it back to the table.

There she took the first photo from the very first pile and began writing. Using the shorthand symbols Zel and her tutors had painstakingly taught her, she quickly noted dates, times, places, and descriptions.  The graph that came into to light under her pen was frightening.  The only place she found no signs of surveillance was on campus.  But then again, she rarely took pictures there.  She usually only took shots of things that caught her interest.  She may well be under surveillance on campus as well, and not have noticed due to the large number of people around her at any one time.

Carefully gathering the best shots of the people following her, she turned to the group by the window.  She froze, seeing for the first time the brown and gray lynx pacing around the room.  At its low rumbling cough, she recognized it.  _I am not supposed to be able to see my own guide! Not yet! I am not ready for this! Her mind wailed and flames flickered in the edges of her vision._  AJ firmly pushed the vision away, sidestepping the lynx, and headed over to Jim.

Jim had been as patient as he knew how to be.  From the moment he stepped inside AJ's apartment, he had known something had gone very wrong.  The tense, sharp movements of the photographer as she worked meant trouble.  He let his gaze move from the stacks of photographs she was sorting over to his guide.  "What happened?"

"She noticed something, or someone, in a photograph."  Megan answered.  "Sandy didn't know the man and neither did she."

"I thought he was one of her students the first time I saw him."  Blair handed a picture to Jim.  He pointed to the man in question.  "I mean, while we were sorting them for her, I'd seen him a couple of times.  I guess she thought he was someone I told to keep an eye on her."

"So, she's being watched?"  The ex-Ranger frowned, committing the face to memory.  From the looks of the crowd, the man was about average – maybe 5'11", 175lbs, brown hair, light colored eyes.  Nothing about him really stood out, he was the perfect surveillance man.  "How long?"

Blair shrugged.  "Don't know."

"We can look up the date of the picture," Megan spoke softly, her eyes on the photographer.  "But right now, she's kind of busy with the notes."

They watched as she bowed her head and the sentinel heard the quiet words she whispered.  He didn't think AJ even knew she had spoken aloud and he was not about to repeat her words to the others.  Hearing her blame herself for missing the surveillance wasn't something the others needed to hear.

"So why did you order me to get everyone out of the exhibition hall?" Blair asked, distracting Jim from AJ's movements.

"Cassie's missing, Chief."  He didn't know how to sugarcoat the words.  He watched as Blair winced, his face paling.  "We're searching the museum from top to bottom, just in case the cult used it again."

"Did the cult get her?"  The anxious blue eyes cut into the sentinel, making him wish he could tell his guide something different.  Instead he only nodded.  "Oh, man.  What about the officer who was protecting her?"

"We don't know, yet."

"Why are they doing this?"  Blair's voice cracked.  "I mean, I understand why people did this kind of thing a long time ago.  They really believed in their gods and their rituals – but this… it's wrong.  Someone mixed together a hodgepodge of different gods and rituals and only the violent ones."

"We'll catch them."  Megan's voice was firm but her face was troubled.  She had been one of the few people who actually got along with Cassie most of the time.  "We will get them and make it all stop."

Before Jim could reply to the Inspector's comment, he noticed AJ was standing, heading for them.  She paused briefly, eyes widening as she noted the lynx pacing nearby.  At its growl, she sidestepped it and moved to Jim's side.  She dropped the journal onto the coffee table in front of him.  He opened it, studying the graph she had made.

"Looks like a rotating schedule?"  The sentinel let his eyes follow the graph, noting the pattern.  

"Yes."  She placed the photographs along the top of the graph.  Each contained a crowd scene with a single face circled.  A mark matching one of the ones on the graph identified the faces.  Jim quickly began sorting them in his mind.

"They set it up to be hard to notice."  He mused, seeing the wide spread of times and locations.  "You take a set of scanning shots every time you shoot?"

"No.  Just sometimes."  AJ replied.  "When I feel like it might be needed."

"And when you went out for the information you put on the maps, did you feel you needed to take a set of scanning shots?"  He asked quietly, focusing on her heartbeat.  "Or did you leave your camera at home?"

"I took my camera with me, I always take it with me. But I rarely felt like I needed to take a scanning set at night."  There was a wry smile on her face.  "Most of the time I left long into the night – and few can keep up with me on foot.  I would have noticed them if they had tried."

"On foot? You mean you've been running around Cascade at night, on foot?"  Megan shook her head.  "And Rafe hasn't tried to stop you?"

Jim shook his head at Megan's comment.  "He didn't know about the excursions until Friday, did he, Kitten?"

"No." The unrepentant tone told them Rafe hadn't liked finding out either.

"I'd better get this to Simon."  Jim stood, tucking the photos into the journal.  "I don't want you alone, not even for a few minutes."

"They aren't after me, not yet."  Fortaleza picked up several folders filled with notes that were stacked on the end of the table.  "These have everything I could find in public sources that might help you."

"I don't want them to break whatever tradition they're following just because we left you unguarded.  Simon and Brian agree with me."  He looked down at her, seeing the frustration in her green eyes and frowning.  "We're not trapping you, there are no cages, no chains.  We just want you to be safe."

After a moment, she nodded.  "Brian was working with the S.W.A.T. unit.  He might be a little late.  Megan, think you can make it until then?"

"Yes."  Megan smiled.  "I've been enjoying the day.  AJ is pretty interesting to be around."

AJ shook her head at the comment. She looked at Blair and then at the crate half hidden by the racks of drying darts.  "Is Blair going to the station with you?"

"No. I'm keeping him as far away from the Feds as I can."  Jim grinned as Blair rolled his eyes and tried to protest that he wasn't afraid of the FBI.

"Take it as a blessing in disguise, Sandy."  Megan chuckled.  "This way you have an excuse to stay as far away from those cretins as possible."

"Do you need him to stay here?"

"Not really."  Fortaleza replied.  She carefully began moving the drying racks, nimbly placing them out of her way.  She opened the crate and shoved packing material out of her way.  At the bottom of the crate was a much smaller, very battered, wooden box.  Sealed shut with nails that were bent in and around the edges of the crate and cracked red wax, it was obvious someone had tried to open it but failed. "I'm sorry this took so long to arrive.  I sent for it a long time ago.  It arrived yesterday."

Jim stared at the box in shock.  He recognized the markings burned into the wood.  "That's mine."

AJ smiled and nodded.  "Incacha told me I would need to give this to you when I found you.  As soon as I found you I sent for it.  He said he sealed it when it had everything you needed in the Great City."

"When was that?"  Blair's whispered question made her look at him. 

"Sometime in 1995, I think."  She shrugged.  "I don't really know.  He sent for me right before he left the Chopec and told me to keep it safe.  It was sealed then.  I've managed to keep it from being opened since."

Jim reached for the box, knowing that it wasn't really for him.  He vaguely remembered when Incacha had started working on the box, carving it out of a single piece of wood.  The box was intended for his guide, so he handed it to Blair.  "Take this to the loft for me?"

His guide nodded, not realizing exactly what Jim was handing him.  To him it represented a piece of Jim's life, one of the pieces he rarely talked about.  The fact that the sentinel was handing it to him was a major trust.  "I'll take good care of it."

Megan raised her eyebrows, watching the two of them and wondering exactly what was going on.  If it had something to do with the sentinel thing, she wanted to know what it was.  But if it was only about Jim's private life, she could let it go.  She looked up in time to see Fortaleza staring at her, eyes narrowing and growing flint hard.  She shook her head at the younger woman.  She'd ask later – when they were nowhere near the photographer.

"I'll call if we get any news."  Jim spoke again, catching AJ's attention.  "Promise to stay with Connor?"

AJ frowned and nodded, very reluctantly.  She could wait here and work on other things.  She looked around, absently noting that the lynx was still roaming through the room.  She needed to research it anyway.  She didn't know much about that particular spirit guide.  She could do that now, while waiting for Brian.  

"Thanks, Megs."  Blair grinned at the Australian, as Megan agreed to stay with Fortaleza.  They all had noticed she still seemed distracted.  "She gets pretty intense when she's researching stuff."

"I noticed."  The Inspector grinned, then she sobered abruptly.  "That makes her vulnerable, though."

"Yeah, we know."  He replied before following Jim out of the apartment.  He cradled Jim's box in his arms, still wondering what might be inside it.  He also wondered who had tried to take it away from AJ, and why.

"When you get home, I want you to lock the doors and wait for me."  Jim nodded to the box.  "It will be safest in your room, with your stuff."

Blair blinked, clattering down the stairs behind his sentinel.  "Are you sure?"

"I want to be there when you open it, but I don't think it should just be lying around until then."  He gave his guide a small grin.  "And that thing would drive me crazy if you put it in my room."

"Jim?"  He looked at his sentinel a little shocked, as he came to a stop beside his Volvo.  "What is it?"

"Incacha made it for my guide – that's you, Chief."  He looked at the files in his arms.  "Look, I've got to get this stuff to Simon. We'll talk about the box when I get home."

Before the shocked anthropologist could reply, Jim had climbed into his truck and was driving away.  Still reeling in shock from Jim's words, Blair unlocked his car and climbed inside.  He wasn't fully conscious of the drive back to the loft.  In fact, when he got home, he realized, he didn't even remember starting the car.  

  


* * *

[1]He sido consagrado, hermanito No puedo irme antes del fin de este paso de la luna.  I've been blessed, little brother. I can't leave until the end of this moon's passing.


	15. Hurricane Blow

The Storm, Chapter 14  
  
Hurricane Blow  
  
  
  
852 Prospect Ave, Apt 307, 19 November, 6:00 P.M.  
  
"No, he's not here, yet. What's wrong?" Blair stared out the balcony doors, his attention focused on the phone and the Australian Inspector's words. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't do anything. And whatever you do, don't let her leave the room."  
  
He quickly disconnected the line, dropping the phone onto the couch and racing for his room. There was no way he was leaving Incacha's box behind, and he had a feeling he'd need his notes. It only took him a minute to pack his backpack before he was pulling open the front door. He took one step and slammed into Jim.  
  
"Whoa, Chief! Where's the fire?" The smile disappeared as the sentinel took in his guide's distress.  
  
"Brian's late and AJ's dreaming." Blair forced himself to catch his breath. "Megan's not too happy, either."  
  
"D***! I thought Rafe would finished by now!" The sentinel turned on his heel and headed for the exit, pulling out his cell phone as he did. "Brown, S.W.A.T. still got your partner? Tell him to meet me at AJ's. He can finish the paperwork later."  
  
"S.W.A.T.?" Blair tossed his backpack into Jim's truck and clambered in after it. He barely had the seatbelt fastened before the truck was fishtailing out of the parking lot. "Right, I remember. Why is he working with them, anyway?"  
  
"Hostage situation, they needed a sniper." The sentinel tossed his cell phone to his guide. "Call Connor and find out what's going on!"  
  
Blair didn't argue, not at the speed Jim was taking the icy Cascade streets. He was not about to distract his friend, not right now. He punched in Megan's number but after several rings it switched over to voice mail. He dialed AJ's apartment. The phone rang until Jim's voice came on her answering machine, "There, you leave a message for the callers and then they can leave you one in return," followed by a snicker and the beep. Frustrated, he dialed AJ's cell phone, only to get her voice mail immediately. "No answer."  
  
Jim frowned, pressing harder on the accelerator.  
  
  
  
Rainier University Apartments.  
  
Before Jim had the truck fully stopped, Blair was out and headed for the building. He ignored his friend's angry shout as he skidded across the parking lot. He noted the squeal of tires as Rafe's car came around the corner and slid into a parking space as he ran into the apartment building. He could chide the two detectives about their driving skills later.  
  
He didn't understand Megan's panic and that bothered him. AJ's dreams were different, but they weren't scary. The fact that the Australian had lost her cool was enough to bother him. He thought the Inspector's avid curiosity would be aroused by AJ having a dream vision. Megan's strident demand for him to get his 'bloody arse' over to the apartment was not what he had expected. Not in the least.  
  
He focused his attention on racing up the stairs, ignoring the sound of the men following him. He tuned out Jim's low growling order to slow down and Rafe's lighter demands to know what was going on. He even tuned out Henri's baritone gasp for answers.  
  
Before the others could catch up to him, he had his copy of AJ's apartment key out and the door unlocked. One step inside the door and he saw what had made Megan panic. The sight of AJ, lying on the floor shaking, brought him to an abrupt stop. He stopped so fast his sentinel crashed into his back, knocking him to knees.  
  
"Megan?" He was completely bewildered by the sight in front of him.  
  
"****. This was not ****** supposed to happen." Rafe's abrupt curse as he scooted around them shocked Blair.  
  
The young detective crouched at Megan's side, carefully turning the photographer onto her back. He wiped a trail of blood from AJ's lips, his eyes worried. "How long ago did it start?"  
  
Blair accepted Jim's hand and let the bigger man pull him to his feet, eyes still on the scene before him.  
  
"About twelve minutes ago," Megan's voice was hoarse. "She told me to call Blair and then hit the floor."  
  
Rafe nodded and settled himself on the floor. Once he was comfortable, he pulled AJ into his lap and focused his attention on her. With one hand he gently tugged on her jaw, forcing her teeth to release her battered lip.  
  
"Brian? Is she going to be okay?" Henri Brown's voice came from behind Blair. He had not heard the big detective enter nor had he noticed him moving further into the apartment. "What's wrong with her?"  
  
"Yeah, she'll be fine. Nothing's wrong, she has epilepsy. That's why she doesn't drive." Brian did not look up, he kept his full attention on the woman in his arms. "She'll be fine."  
  
"What about medication?" Megan asked, wide-eyed. "Shouldn't she be taking something?"  
  
"When it's over," Jim spoke up.  
  
Blair shot the sentinel a glare. He wished they would tell him these things before they happened. When had AJ told Jim she was epileptic? It made sense, though. One of the signs of a shaman in many cultures was the shaking spells that occurred when the shaman visited with the spirits. Even as his mind started contemplating the idea that AJ had epilepsy, he caught Jim's silent hand movement. The sentinel did not want him to say anything. From the quick glance his friend shot at the Australian, Blair realized Jim was trying to cover up something.  
  
"Well, you should have told me," Megan scolded them.  
  
Blair shrugged and obfuscated rapidly. "Haven't seen her have one. Forgot about it."  
  
"It doesn't happen often," Brian agreed from the floor. Blair glanced at him and saw AJ's eyes watching them, slightly unfocused. "Can someone get a glass of water?"  
  
Megan quickly turned to get the water, happy to have something to do.  
  
"Hey, Bright Eyes," Jim whispered to the woman in Rafe's arms. "How're you feeling?"  
  
A low groan came from her and she closed her eyes. She let her head drop back to rest on Brian's shoulder, her hand finding his, their fingers intertwining. She was pale, breathing shallowly, and faint tremors still racked her body.  
  
"That good?" Jim winced at the scowl he received.  
  
"Here you go," Megan offered the glass of water.  
  
AJ's hand shook so badly she nearly dropped the glass before Brian steadied it. He held it as she gulped the water down. There was sly amusement in his voice as he told her, "Slow down. We won't take it away."  
  
"Where are your medicines?" Megan asked. "I'll get them for you."  
  
Wide eyes, more silver than green, glared up at her as AJ finished off the water. She let Brian take the glass away and tried to sit up. "I do not need any pills."  
  
"Yes, you do. You need some rest, too. Jim, give me a hand?" Rafe growled at her before turning his attention to the sentinel. Ellison nodded his understanding and stood up.  
  
Before she could protest their plan, Jim took AJ's forearm and pulled her into a standing position. Brian quickly set the glass on the coffee table and stood. The moment he was on his feet, Jim transferred AJ back to him and he carried her to the sofa. Once there, he quickly settled her comfortably, whispering questions and frowning at the quiet responses. A moment later, Blair appeared, handing him a blanket.  
  
The sentinel turned his attention back to his co-workers.  
  
"Thanks for calling us, Megan. She doesn't like anybody fussing over her - especially not doctors." Jim turned his attention back to the two Major Crimes people. He shook his head. "I thought she had everything under control, sorry."  
  
Megan rolled her eyes and Henri shook his head. The Australian spoke first. "I take it she didn't tell you?" She chuckled at the glance Jim shot her. "You and Sandy looked completely surprised. We've been watching you and AJ and Rafe - she tells him stuff she doesn't tell you, and you don't like it."  
  
Jim sighed and nodded. "She's a little reticent about stuff."  
  
"Like you aren't?" Henri grinned wryly. "Man, nobody knew your dad and your brother lived in Cascade until they became part of a couple of cases. Looks like the girl is giving you some of your own medicine."  
  
The sentinel glared at the grinning detective.  
  
Megan laughed at them, chuckling to herself as she picked up her bag. "If you gentlemen have everything under control, I have got to get going. I have just enough time to get ready for my date."  
  
"Everything's under control," Jim growled.  
  
Megan just smiled and shook her head, her disbelief evident. "'Night Sandy, H. Tell the lovebirds I said goodbye." She grinned impishly at Jim, "Good luck, mate. With her as a sister you need it."  
  
"One of these days," Jim sighed, making Henri grin.  
  
"You sure everything's okay, Jim?" Henri caught Jim's eye, his relief still tempered by the worry in his eyes.  
  
"Yeah, it's going to be fine." Jim replied quietly. He glanced over his shoulder to where Blair and Rafe were quietly talking to AJ. "She'll be worn out, but thanks to Megan, no harm was done."  
  
Henri nodded, gazing around the room curiously. His eyes lingered for a moment on the bookshelves, staring at the titles. The expressionless mask that fell over his face made Jim wince. "I guess if Devereaux and his people ever show up without a warrant, I better not let them inside. One look at some of this stuff and they would think she was part of it."  
  
Jim grinned ruthlessly. "If they don't have a warrant, you're off duty and you call me."  
  
Henri nodded. "She's your source?"  
  
The sentinel didn't answer, knowing Henri was a good enough detective to make his own judgment call.  
  
"I better head home and tell Sherri everything's okay."  
  
"Don't tell her too much, H. It could get dangerous and we want to keep her safe." Jim kept his voice low, not really wanting to say it, but he couldn't let the other man accidentally risk his wife.  
  
"Yeah, I'll keep it quiet." Then he smiled, his eyes mischievous. "I'll tell her Rafe has a lady-friend and let her pick his brains clean. Or better yet, I'll tell her Rafe is dating your sister. I'll let you tell her why she can't meet Kyrie."  
  
Jim shook his head. He liked Sherri Brown. The woman was not afraid of anything or anyone. Everyone in Major Crimes knew she had Jim wrapped around her little finger. Every time he tried to stonewall her, Sherri would arch her eyebrow and ask if it was part of a police case. If it were she would drop the subject. If it wasn't she would get Ellison to tell her. She would smile, keep it quiet if he asked her to, but she would get her information. Like Joel's wife, Lydia, Jim avoided her when possible, protected her fiercely whenever their husbands weren't there, and he put up with her quiet mothering when forced to do so. Ten minutes after Henri told Sherri Rafe was dating Ellison's sister, she would be on the phone to Jim - demanding information about the woman her other adopted brother was dating.  
  
Henri was still chuckling as he left. Jim turned around as the door shut, shifting so he could see over Rafe's shoulder. He caught AJ's eyes and fought a smile at the sheepish but wistful expression on her face. "So, you're curious about Sherri? She'll want to meet you."  
  
Brian looked up at him with a frown and then glanced at the door. He nodded, understanding. "Henri going to sic her on you?"  
  
"Yep. Payback for not being able to bring her over to meet AJ." Jim shrugged fatalistically. It was done; he would handle the fallout later. Shoving the thought out of his mind, he turned his attention to the woman on the couch. He did not like the pallor or the slight trembling that racked her frame. He frowned thoughtfully.  
  
"So, Kitten, why fight off the vision? You could have gotten hurt."  
  
Blair stiffened and the sentinel noted the changes that occurred, as his guide understood the meaning behind the words. The younger man was smart enough to begin drawing his own conclusions about what had just happened, and as an anthropologist he would probably be right on target, too. Jim knew what AJ had pulled, but he only knew because he had seen Incacha go through the same thing back in Peru. Visions were not something to be messed with and the Chopec shaman had only forced himself to ignore the signs of an incipient vision at his own risk. From the signs, AJ had pushed herself hard until her body rebelled - causing the seizure that mimicked epilepsy.  
  
Jim waited patiently, knowing she was not in good enough shape to stand up against his gaze. He could feel the incredulous gaze as it flickered between AJ and him but he refused to look away from the young woman in front of him. Blair's heart rate quickened and his breathing deepened as his agile mind began correlating the information he just been given. The slight scent of awe and satisfaction were quickly overwhelmed by fear and anger as the guide went from delight at Jim's deduction to anger at the ramification of her actions.  
  
"I thought we agreed, no more secrets from us?" Blair's voice was a low growl. "What did Jim mean?"  
  
AJ shot Jim a furious glare, her pale skin quickly turning rosy under the scrutiny of the three men. Before she could move, Brian's hand caught her chin and gently forced her to face him. He did not have to say anything; all three could read the defeat in her expression. "From you, I hide nothing. But from the others. that is different."  
  
"You risked hurting yourself to keep Megan from seeing you have a vision?" Brian's voice was a touch confused. She nodded, her eyes shadowed.  
  
"What caused the convulsion? Or do you really have epilepsy?" Blair's voice was no longer accusing, now it was simply curious.  
  
"Fighting the vision too hard makes the body shake. If you let go, the vision comes on hard - that makes the shaking worse. No matter how long you fight them, no matter how hard you fight them - the visions always break through, eventually." Her face slowly became a calm mask, unreadable. The sentinel frowned as he noted the slowly calming heart rate that didn't match the fear -- no make that terror -- that still tinged the air around her. "Zel, he said it would be easier to tell the visiting Norteamericanos I had the dancing sickness. That way they did not wonder why I do not drive, they do not panic when I shake."  
  
Brian moved without say a word. He went from kneeling in front of the sofa to sitting next to AJ, his arm around her, pulling her close. "You said you didn't SEE anything, but that wasn't the truth, was it?"  
  
The bleak pain in the silver-green eyes that met Jim's told him exactly what she had SEEN - another death. Then she looked away, turning her eyes to stare at Rafe's hand on her arm. He was fingering a silver ID bracelet and Jim noted the epilepsy warning on it. It was so new it still gleamed.  
  
"My tía, Tía Elena, went up on the altar today." AJ's voice was a bare whisper, breaking as she spoke. "I do not know how they got here her, but they did. I felt her die and now, now they prepare Tito." The plaintive tone in her voice made her pain clear as she growled, "I don't want to SEE anymore. I don't want know. I want it all to go away. I wish it would all just stop, that I'd never, ever seen anything at all."  
  
Jim winced at the pain in her eyes and voice but he had to ask, "Do you know where?"  
  
"No. I was fighting the vision too hard to see that kind of detail." She didn't look up but Jim could hear the hesitation. "It is not over, I can still feel it, on the edges of my sight. It hovers like a cloud on the edge of the valley rim. I am losing control of the visions - they are getting stronger and harder to fight. Soon I won't be able to do anything about them." She finally looked up and all three men were shocked by the desolation on her face.  
  
"Kyrie, we'll -" Brian began but she suddenly paled and bolted for the bathroom. Jim motioned for him to stay put. "This hard on her, Jim. Too hard."  
  
"I know, Brian, but she is our only chance at stopping them." The sentinel regretted the fact. He wanted to tell Brian to take the young woman and flee - get as far from Cascade as possible. But neither of them could do that.  
  
"Man, this is not good, is it?" Blair asked, sinking into an empty chair, his eyes on the two older men.  
  
Jim shook his head. During his time with the Chopec, he had seen Incacha suffer through several visions. The shaman would only induce a vision when he felt something was wrong, something that threatened the tribe. He remembered the way the visions had wracked his teacher, leaving him defenseless and ill from both the vision-inducing drugs and the vision itself. It had been the job of Incacha's family to care for the shaman once he had relayed the vision to chief. If the vision warned the tribe to leave the area, two warriors were given the honor of escorting the man, keeping him moving and safe on the journey. "I don't know much about the kind of vision she has, Chief. I know the visions Incacha had were always followed by him getting pretty sick."  
  
"But those were induced, right? That could have been from the potion he used to induce the visions." Blair grabbed a journal from his backpack and began flipping through it. He grumbled under his breath, as he searched, "I wish this thing had an index."  
  
"It does." AJ's voice made Jim look up from his perusal of the notes scattered on the coffee table. She was pale, leaning against the doorframe. Her left arm was swathed with bandages from her wrist to her elbow. His nostrils twitched at the faint scent of blood and he frowned thoughtfully, as she continued, "I think it's in my cubbyhole."  
  
"Okay." The anthropologist frowned and glanced at his sentinel. Jim shook his head at the unspoken question; he was not about to let Blair go climbing through the exhibit now. The young man raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. Jim looked at his wristwatch and shrugged, maybe in the morning.  
  
"Come on, sit down." Brian led her back to the sofa, sinking onto it with her. As soon as they were seated, she turned her back on the sentinel and guide, curling into the young detective's embrace. The dapper young man looked up at the older detective, his face worried as his hands gently stroked her back. When Jim silently handed him a couple of pills, he took them and gave them to AJ. Then he accepted the glass of water and held it to her lips until she drank. Once that was done, he gave the glass back to the sentinel, pulling her against his shoulder and resuming his gentle, calming movements.  
  
Jim motioned Blair to silence, his attention focused on the young woman. He could hear the faint shudders in her chest as she calmed her breathing. Her heart rate was dropping, slowing as she slipped into a doze. The sense of pure exhaustion she exuded made him frown. The faint scent of fresh blood made his frown deepen. "Did she sleep at all last night?"  
  
"Maybe three hours." The look on Brian's face suggested that he hadn't gotten much sleep either.  
  
"D***." Jim rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wasn't too sure how to phrase this without being suggestive but they both needed some sleep. "Look, Brian. Neither of you slept much last night. H***, I'd bet neither of you have been sleeping much since Friday night. I think you should take AJ to bed - to sleep. Blair and I can camp out in the living room to make sure the cult stays away tonight."  
  
The younger detective stared at his senior detective for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I doubt she'll sleep long, though."  
  
"Actually, she might." Jim grinned wickedly. "She took the pain killers you handed her and she's drifting off now. If you're there with her, she can focus on your heartbeat. Between the pills and that, she'll sleep."  
  
Brian frowned and shook his head. "I know her hearing is better than most but for her to use my heartbeat to sleep- " His voice trailed off, uncertainly.  
  
"It really works, Brian," Blair spoke up quietly. His voice was carefully modulated in the tone Jim recognized as 'soothing guide'. The sentinel fought a grin, his partner was using his hard earned skills in an attempt to keep AJ resting, ignoring the conversation around her. "It's been proven that infants and children fall asleep faster, more soundly, and with less disturbance when they either have a recording of their mother's heartbeat or sleep with their head resting against her. In a similar study, adults who regularly share a bed with one partner sleep much better with a recording of their partner's heartbeat."  
  
Rafe blushed at the innuendo and opened his mouth to protest. "We - um, I, ah h***."  
  
AJ's head came up at his stumbling words. She turned a pair of bleary, angry silver-green eyes at the two men and growled defensively, "Leave him alone."  
  
Jim chuckled. "Did you listen to what we were saying?"  
  
She shook her head, letting herself collapse back onto Rafe's shoulder. Her words slurred as she murmured, "He's upset, I can feel it."  
  
"Go to bed. Blair and I will keep watch." Jim watched in amusement as she looked from one man to the other and figured out what she had missed. She flushed and began to shake her head. The sentinel decided to up the ante. He spoke in Quechua, purposely leaving Brian and Blair out of the conversation. Take him and sleep, little sister. I know you need the sleep and so does he. Does he know you listen for him?   
  
How did you know?   
  
When he comes into the room, you tilt your head towards his heartbeat. At the precinct, I watched you focus on him and I could see you track him through the rooms without ever looking up.   
  
AJ's eyes met his, worried about his knowledge. You do not disapprove?   
  
Don't hurt him.   
  
Never, Enqueri. He is my life, my soul. The serene smile caught Jim off guard. He didn't say anything as she stood. With an exhausted nod to the sentinel, she disappeared into the bedroom.  
  
His eyes met Brian's and he nodded to the unspoken question in the younger detective's eyes. Relief quickly flickered through the gray hazel eyes. "Go on, Brian. We'll hold down the fort."  
  
The South African detective nodded, stood, and followed his lady.  
  
"Um, Jim," Blair's voice was hesitant. "Do you know what you're doing, man?"  
  
The sentinel raised an eyebrow at his guide, curious about the question. He knew exactly what he had just done and was not sure Blair understood.  
  
"I mean," Blair looked away for a moment, looking slightly embarrassed. "If the Walks Through People are anything like most of the tribes in the La Montaña region, young women need to have permission to, well, to date, to spend time with a man. That permission comes from their mothers. After that they have to get a separate permission to go beyond the simple dating stage. That permission has to come from their family - father, uncle, elder brother. The man has to be approved by the family. You just did that, man."  
  
"I know what I'm doing, Chief." Jim stood and went over to the window. "She's scared. Actually, I'd say she's terrified by the cult. They have gotten to her and if we're not real careful, she will run right into their arms."  
  
"What do you mean?" Shock laced the other man's voice.  
  
Jim sighed. He did not want to explain but he knew he could not ignore the question. "She's on edge, Blair. And that edge is getting awfully fine. She's been led here - by her connections and the people she works for, the ones she won't admit to - and abandoned for the cult to pick up. Her backup has been removed and one by one, her family is vanishing, only to die here in Cascade. Rafe is the only one she really trusts, I'm not about to force her to confront the mores of her people over him. If they dislike my actions, they'll let me know but they won't say anything to her about it. Besides, I've been clear since the beginning that I had no problems with them dating. I just don't like them going around behind my back."  
  
"So you just gave her blanket permission to give her some stability?" Blair was incredulous, his hands frozen in mid-move; the wooden box half out of his backpack.  
  
"No, I gave her permission to have a reason to fight the cult." Jim turned his back on the window and moved over to the bookshelf, perusing the titles curiously. He wondered why Blair had missed the obvious. "I gave her a reason to stay alive. As long as she denies what's going on between them, she can't find a reason for staying clear of the cult. They've marked her, and the mark gets stronger in her mind with every vision, with every family member who dies. The cult literally can't touch Brian. The necklace she gave him marks him in a way that the cult will see and back away from. She even called in favors big enough that they are making my sources ask me to keep an eye on him."  
  
Blair nodded, understanding darkening his eyes. "And since she has your permission to be with him, she's going to have a reason to stay safe."  
  
"She's already fallen head-over-heals and she knows it." The sentinel shrugged, a wry grin on his face. "Between the way her spirit guide fawns all over him and the way she tracks his every move it's kind of obvious."  
  
"Her spirit guide likes Rafe?"  
  
"No, the thing curls at his feet, licking its chops." Jim shook his head in amusement at the memory. The little lynx was enamored of Brian and made no bones about it. Pure and total adoration seemed to ooze from the feline any time it was quiet enough to curl up near the young detective.  
  
"Oh, man. You've got to be kidding!" Blair muffled his laughter as he finished pulling items out of his backpack and settled them on the table.  
  
"Nope. But the drawback of that is when it gets antsy; it makes both of them jittery. As for the relationship thing - I've given them permission to date, nothing more. For anything else, they have to go to the tribal elders."  
  
Blair blinked. "Tribal elders? Who are the tribal elders?"  
  
"Simon and Joel." Ellison picked up the telephone and began dialing. "How does Chinese for dinner sound?"  
  
"Simon? Joel? Oh, man, I want to be there if AJ actually goes and asks for their permission." Sandburg chuckled, his eyes dancing merrily. "Chinese is fine, just get my usual."  
  
Jim ordered reflexively, not needing to see a menu. It took him a bit of concentration to change the delivery address, but not enough to look away from the box. The battered wood was so much darker than it had been when he had watched Incacha burn his symbols into it. He remembered the day the old Chopec shaman had explained the meaning of the box. It was to hold his guide's possessions and keep them safe. He had left it behind when the rescue team came for him. The thought that Incacha had kept adding to it unsettled him. The fact that he had sealed it and handed it over to AJ in 1995, before Jim met Blair, before Cyclops Oil's depredations in the La Montaña region, before Incacha's trip to Cascade, that made him more than unsettled. It was downright spooky.  
  
"Jim? If you don't want me to open it, I won't," Blair's voice was soft, worried. Jim looked up, his confusion written on his face. "It's hard not to see how much this thing bothers you."  
  
"That's not it, Chief." Jim shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't mind you opening it. I want to see what Incacha put in there after I left. It's just kind of - strange - knowing that he finished it and gave it to AJ after I left and before I met you. He had to have known he was going to die in Cascade."  
  
"Oh." Blair looked at the wooden box, his fingers tracing over the symbols burned into the wooden lid. "I guess that is kind of creepy. Are you sure you're okay with me having it?"  
  
"It was made for you, not for me. Go ahead and open it."  
  
Blair nodded and began painstakingly peeling the wax seals off the box. Once the wax was gone, he hunted for AJ's tools before beginning the slow, careful process of prying the nails out of the wood. He never noticed when Jim stepped to the door and got the Chinese food from the delivery girl. It took him over an hour to remove the top of the box.  
  
"Blair?" Jim's voice made the younger man look up. Jim motioned to the plate of food next to him. "Eat your dinner before you begin going through the stuff in there."  
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." Blair grabbed the fork and took a bite, his eyes scanning the edges of the box. The wood was sanded smooth, only rough where it was marred by the mark of a crowbar from some attempt to open it. He let his free hand skim that edge. The gouge was weathered and old enough that it did not catch on his skin.  
  
"Stop that. You need to eat," Jim interrupted him with an amused chuckle. "If you can't leave it alone while you eat, I'll have to take it away."  
  
"You can't do that, you said it's mine, remember?" Blair tossed back, an embarrassed grin on his face. He couldn't help it if the thing seemed to call to him.  
  
Jim shook his head, not quite understanding the motivations that seemed to be controlling his guide but he trusted Incacha had not put anything dangerous in the box. They ate in silence, Jim watching as Blair eyed the box, his eyes thoughtful, while he wolfed down his food. The sentinel fought a sigh, his guide was just too curious at times. But he did not argue when Blair finally set aside his plate and reached for the box again. Instead he concentrated on the spices in the moo-shoo beef and the subtle way they interacted with the rich plum sauce.  
  
"Oh, man. I can't believe this!" Blair's stunned voice made Jim look up again. The entire inside of the box was taken up by a knotted package. The knots were so numerous, the threads so closely woven that nothing could be seen beyond the multiple shades of brown, green, and red that made up the macramé. "This is going to take forever to unravel."  
  
Jim set his food aside and stared at the knots. "No it won't." He reached into the box and gently poked at one of the brown cords, and then he tugged at a green one. A red strand freed itself and he pulled it swiftly out of the mass of knots. Before Blair could protest, the unraveling thread raced around the edges of the package, freeing three sides of the knotted thread lid from the body of the container. "All unlocked."  
  
"How did you do that?" Blair stared at the sentinel, eyes wide with amazement. "It looked solid."  
  
"I know how Incacha used to make these things. He taught me how to open them without breaking the thing into pieces." Jim shrugged, eyeing the contents of the box curiously. "It's a way to know when someone has opened sacred objects. Once the seal has been broken you can't replace it."  
  
"Okay." Blair frowned at the box. "Why would he go to that much trouble to seal it?"  
  
"I don't know," Jim paused thoughtfully. "None of the things I saw him put in there were valuable."  
  
"So, it wasn't sealed before you left?"  
  
"No, I'd seen him seal other things, but he hadn't sealed this." The sentinel watched as his companion carefully began removing the tightly packed contents of the box. Small woven boxes, tiny, colorful pouches, a string of small precious and semi-precious stones, a fancily carved wooden pipe, and from the bottom of the box, an embellished medicine bag.  
  
"Jim, this is. I mean it's marked with Chopec symbols, but I thought a shaman's medicine bag was buried with him."  
  
"It is, Chief." He watched his guide finger one item after another, eyes lit with amazement and curiosity. The sentinel sat back, half watching the younger man's actions and half watching the two amused spirit guides. Panther was lying on the carpet near the coffee table, his long tail stretched out lazily behind him. Wolf sat next to Blair, ears pricked forward as he delicately sniffed one of the woven boxes. Neither seemed bothered by Incacha's gifts to his guide so Jim relaxed.  
  
"But this is a shaman's bag - see these marking? They are the different spirit guides. And here, this one in the center would be the shaman's personal spirit guide. It's a wolf, Jim." Blair turned the bag over and froze. He looked up at Jim, tracing the embroidered symbols on the back of it. "There's a black panther on the other side, and it's sitting next to the wolf. Did Incacha know my spirit guide was going to be a wolf?"  
  
"I'm not sure what he knew about you. Incacha helped me with my senses. He helped me survive after the crash." Jim's voice was soft as he remembered the frantic days after his arrival in the Chopec village. Incacha had accepted him from the moment the scouts brought the wounded soldier to the village. He had healed the grieving sentinel's wounds, both mental and physical, fought off his survival depression, and forcibly dragged him into village life. He remembered the cryptic words the older man had whispered to him, ones that only made sense in recent years. He could hear them now - Listen, sentinel, listen to the baying of the young one who seeks you even now. Find him and you will find your way again. "I didn't understand a lot of what he told me, but I think he knew."  
  
Blair's eyes only grew wider and he nodded, accepting his sentinel's words. He carefully untied the threads lacing the bag shut and pulled out a thick notebook. He opened it and groaned. "This is in Latin. I really hate deciphering Latin."  
  
"Latin?"  
  
"Yeah, Latin." Blair frowned at the tiny printed letters on the first page. "Okay, this says it belongs to Enqueri and Enqueri's watcher - I guess they mean guide. It's a treatise for leading the people safely?."  
  
"What?" Jim's confusion only made Blair laugh.  
  
"That's what it says - I think. I mean, I'm not the world's best Latin expert and this is a pretty obscure dialectal variant. Well, that or it's got an awful lot of slang in it." The anthropologist studied the words intently. "Yeah, that's what it seems to say." He turned the next few pages, still shaking his head in bewildered amusement. "Why would someone write a Latin treatise and then. oh, man."  
  
Carefully attached to the next page with old-fashioned photo mounts was a piece of old, yellowed paper. The beautifully scrawled script flowed across the page with the distinctive flair of nineteenth century penmanship. Blair skimmed the words, his fingers not daring to touch the ancient paper. He gently turned the page and stared at the next yellowed set of notes. Then he reverently closed the notebook and set it down.  
  
The sentinel did not understand the rapid heartbeat or the fine sheen of sweat on his guide's forehead. He watched as Blair closed his eyes and drew in several deep, cleansing breaths.  
  
"Okay. I am definitely awake. I definitely saw those pages. They're real." Bright, exited blue eyes flicked to the notebook and then to his friend. "Jim, you saw them? Right?"  
  
Jim nodded, not understanding why the pages bothered Blair so much.  
  
"Did they look old to you?"  
  
Still wondering what was going on, the detective picked up the notebook and opened it to one of the mounted pages. Letting his senses dial up so that they were focused completely on the old sheet of paper, he studied it. It smelled old - a combination of old paper, the dry, dusty smell that came from being stored in one of the religious caves Incacha had shown him, and the scent of faded India ink. The weave of the paper was odd to his eyes and it took him a moment to realize that there was linen mixed with the wood pulp that made up the paper. Against the linen, the watermark stood out - a fancy crest that he had seen in some museum somewhere - not something he had seen in any recently made paper. Under his fingertips, the paper was softer, older and less compressed than modern paper. It felt more like cloth than paper to his touch, with none of the harsh chemicals that left his skin feeling slightly abused when he turned up his sense of touch. And he decided that was the clincher, he had felt this paper before, in one of Blair old manuscripts.  
  
"It's old. Real old." He looked at his guide. "What is it?"  
  
"Well," Blair licked his lips, uncertainly. "According to the note on the previous page - if I translated it correctly, those are some of Sir Richard Burton's original notes."  
  
Jim blinked and looked at the notebook. His Latin was ridiculously rusty - heck, he had not thought about Latin since high school, but he could still puzzle his way through most of the Latin words.  
  
"With duress, Burton left Incacha's grandfather's grandfather's father the note he had made of the rites and," Jim slowly read the words, stumbling over some of them, "actions of the shaman's guardian. Guardian?"  
  
"I think the writer means sentinel," Blair supplied quietly.  
  
Jim nodded, continuing, "These words have been passed down from one shaman to his son for the generations. And each generation pledged to remember the words and pass them to the one to come." He stared at the notes, reading the carefully penned words. They had been written over 100 years earlier by Burton as he watched a sentinel and guide at work. He recognized the actions of the two men in the notes and swallowed thickly. The guide was bringing his sentinel out of a zone. These must have been part of Burton's original notes for his sentinel manuscript.  
  
"If I can get these validated," the anthropologist began and then froze before shaking his head. "I can't do that. These were taken away from Burton for a reason." He gently took the notebook from Jim's hands and turned the pages until he came to the last set of notes. He read the words and bowed his head, closing the notebook. "No wonder they took this away from him."  
  
"What happened, Chief?" Jim asked, noting the distress in his guide's eyes.  
  
"One of Burton's men used his notes against the sentinel and guide. The sentinel died trying to rescue his guide. Burton wrote he was going to attempt to bargain for the lives of the rest of the party." The blue eyes were pain-filled at the failure of his long time hero. "That must be why there is so little about the role of the guide in his works, to protect both of them from unscrupulous men."  
  
The sentinel nodded his understanding. He knew exactly how far he would go to protect his own guide; he understood how the ancient sentinel could easily lose his life in an attempt to save his guide. The fact that the tribe had let Burton leave alive was amazing in and of itself, and it made him wonder if there hadn't been a reason for that. The panther looked at him, its eyes blinking languidly at his raised eyebrow. Jim glanced around the room and noticed the clock with a frown. When had it gotten so late?  
  
"Are you going to open the rest of this stuff?" He asked quietly.  
  
"Huh? Oh, no. I need to think about this." Blair hugged the notebook to his chest, eyes still troubled.  
  
"Why don't you sleep on it? You don't have to make any decisions about those notes right now. They'll keep," the sentinel kept his tone light as he stood and headed for the balcony door. He stared out at the snow, seeing the multitude of tracks as shadowy paths into the night. "It'll all keep until a better time."  
  
Blair blinked wearily. He looked at the pile of sheets and blankets beside the couch and nodded thoughtfully. He was tired enough not to argue with the older man, knowing instinctively that it would not do any good. It only took him couple of minutes to spread out the blankets and fall asleep. As he did, his sentinel checked the locks on the doors and settled in to guard over the small apartment.  
  
  
  
  
  
Rainier University Apartments, 20 November, 1:45 A.M.  
  
The faint sound of movement warned the sentinel before the door to the bedroom opened. AJ came out a moment later; her eyes clear of the fear and pain that had darkened them earlier. She glanced over at the sleeping anthropologist and smiled as she shoved her loose hair back from her face. Her short sleeve shirt did nothing to hide the reddened bandage that wrapped her left arm from wrist to elbow. "Good morning, Enqueri."  
  
"Hidalga," Jim kept his voice low to keep from waking his guide.  
  
"You need sleep," she spoke just as softly, almost too soft for anyone but a sentinel to hear.  
  
"We need to talk," he countered quietly.  
  
She closed her eyes and nodded. "Sí."  
  
He stood, stretching muscles that had been still too long, and went to the window. AJ followed, her movements as quiet as his.  
  
"How is Tito?"  
  
"Holding on, barely." The young woman looked at her toes, her hair hiding her face from the sentinel.  
  
"What are you trying not to say?" Jim placed his fingers on AJ's jaw and gently tilted her face up so he could see her eyes. She looked at him, pupils fully dilated with the vision she was not about to admit to having. He read the message in her eyes and nodded. "Can we do anything to help him?"  
  
She shook her head. "He is too far away. I'm not sure if he's within the city limits or just outside them, but he is north of us. It's cold where he is. The snow is deep. The trees are dark. The stars are hidden behind clouds. The wind is soft, gentle on his skin. He is not in pain anymore."  
  
"How much longer?"  
  
She did not try to ignore the question or its meaning but she shrugged. A tear ran from the corner of her eye and wet his fingertips. "Not too long."  
  
Jim nodded and began to recite the ancient words Incacha had taught him. After a moment of wide-eyed astonishment, AJ joined him. They softly spoke the words for the passing of a guide's spirit. Neither of them noticed their lynx and panther watching them. Nearby, the silent wolf cuddled closer to Blair, its ears drooping mournfully.  
  
  
  
  
  
Rainier University Apartments, 20 November, 7:00 A.M.  
  
Brian Rafe fought off a grin at the sight before him. Blair, at least he thought the lump on the couch was Blair, was nothing but a mound of blankets. Resting her head on top of the mound was AJ, her feet tucked up under her like a human pretzel. Beyond them, Jim Ellison was asleep in the recliner, a blanket tossed over him, his feet propped up on the coffee table.  
  
The moment he stepped into the room, two pair of eyes snapped open. Glacial blue eyes were more like lasers until Ellison came fully awake, and for that few moments Brian did not move. Silver-green eyes twinkled merrily as they flickered from one man to the other, watching as recognition speedily came to one and the other immediately relaxed.  
  
"Coffee?" Brian asked, heading for the kitchen. He knew he needed it and he was pretty sure Jim drank it first thing in the morning, too. He barely heard the grunted response under AJ's laughter. He looked back to see Blair appear as AJ stole the blankets from him.  
  
"If you want to live, you better make enough for all of us." The grumbling words came from a creature he wasn't sure he wanted to see this early in the morning. Blair's hair was standing on end, looking a lot like horns were poking from his scalp. The younger man's overnight beard growth was astonishingly rough looking.  
  
AJ laughed at him again and then squealed as the anthropologist hit her with a pillow. Brian turned back to making the coffee, no longer hiding the grin on his face.  
  
"D***, they're young," Jim's voice came from beside Brian as the older detective began setting out mugs.  
  
"Young at heart," Brian replied quietly. He glanced at the other man. "Thanks."  
  
Jim nodded. He shot a quick glance at the two wrestling for control of the pillow. "You both needed the rest."  
  
"When did she get up?"  
  
"Around 1:30. I don't know when she fell asleep again."  
  
Brian pointed to the pile of new cassette tapes on the coffee table. "From that pile, I'd guess around five."  
  
Jim nodded. He knew he had drifted off around 3 A.M. assured by the young woman that she would wake the sentinel if anything sounded out of the ordinary. Her quiet whisper into the tape recorder had not bothered him in the slightest; in fact, it had been like a lullaby, encouraging him to rest.  
  
As soon as it finished perking, Jim poured the coffee into the four mugs. Brian grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and handed Jim the creamer for Blair's coffee. A moment later and the two men headed back into the living room. As soon as Blair saw their approach, he straightened, his eyes latching onto the steaming mug in his sentinel's hand. AJ shook her head and sat back, not about to risk the men going without their morning coffee.  
  
Brian handed her the water and settled on the arm of the couch. After fishing AJ's medication from his pocket, he set it on the table next to her coffee mug. Immediately, AJ wrapped her arm around him and rested her head on his ribs. His free arm curled around her, his hand resting on her waist. He caught the amused glance Jim sent their way as he handed Blair his coffee and shrugged. It felt natural for them to curl up together like this and Brian was not about change for the other man, no matter who he was. Jim seemed to sense his determination and nodded his acceptance of it.  
  
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Blair broke the silence after taking a long sip of his coffee. "I've got to stay at the museum and work on the clean up."  
  
"I've got a meeting with the D.A. at noon," Jim spoke first.  
  
"Paperwork," Brian replied as he deftly opened the pill bottle AJ was trying to ignore. He removed a pill and handed it to her. Both Jim and Brian glared at her, daring her to argue.  
  
"Class from nine to noon." AJ quickly tossed the painkiller into her mouth and emptied the water bottle in a vain attempt to get rid of the taste. She set it aside and gulped down her coffee before standing and heading for the bedroom. "There are bagels and fruit and other stuff in the kitchen. I have to get ready to run."  
  
"Slow down, Kitten," Jim grumbled. "You can't leave until we know who is going to be with you this morning."  
  
"Megan said Anthony or Lance would be here at eight." She stopped at the door. Her words made all three men look up sharply. "I think the Irishman is coming though. I heard him."  
  
"What does that mean?" Blair asked quickly.  
  
"I don't know. I know his accent was Irish in the vision. But I don't know when it will come to pass." She shrugged and turned away. "He has a wife and child. He's a beautiful little boy who likes to play football and adores his father. I'm going to like meeting him."  
  
"That is so - spooky." Blair looked over at Brian, who shrugged his agreement.  
  
"AJ?" Jim's voice stopped her again. "What did you see?"  
  
She bowed her head. "I saw the Irishman and his family at a funeral. I don't know whose. I don't know if it can be stopped or not. I know they are safe."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She nodded and disappeared behind the door.  
  
"You know, for a little while I was jealous of her visions," Blair mused quietly; not noticing the startled looks the two detectives gave him. "Now, I am like, SO glad I don't have them.  
  
None of them were surprised when Anthony Baker arrived half an hour later. The tall Irishman greeted them with a bag filled with Danishes and his trademark grin. "So, where's the little lassie? I've heard a lot about her. Congratulations on being caught, Brian."  
  
"Lassie?" AJ came into the living room, fastening her vest. "When did you bring a dog here?"  
  
"Kyrie," Brian grinned, forcing himself not to laugh. "I'd like you to meet Anthony Baker. Tony, this is Kyrie Eleason Alessandre Jacobo Fortaleza y Trujillo, most people call her AJ."  
  
"Now that, lassie, is a name bigger than you are." Tony grinned at her, taking her hand and bowing over it. "A lassie is a pretty girl in my homeland."  
  
"Señor Baker." She smiled politely at him, pulling her hand away and stepping closer to Brian while eyeing him warily.  
  
"He's safe, Kitten." Jim grinned, amused by the reaction. "Tony may kiss your hand and smile, but he's happily married to a beautiful lady."  
  
"That I am. Would you like to see a picture?" Tony toned down his smile sheepishly. He pulled out his wallet and showed off pictures of his wife, Angela and their son. His accent thickened as he talked about them, showing the picture of his son in a football jersey.  
  
"You are the Irishman?" She sounded slightly puzzled as she looked at the pictures.  
  
"Aye, that I am." Tony looked up at her and then glanced at Jim curiously. "If yer kin to Ellison, then you are Irish, too."  
  
"On my mother's side," she replied quietly, turning her odd green and silver eyes on him.  
  
Tony stiffened as he noticed them for the first time. "You have silver in yer eyes."  
  
"What's wrong with that?" Jim asked quietly, catching the unease in both Tony and AJ. He studied the blond Irishman curious as to the source of the quiet detective's tension. Since his arrival, Tony had quietly but steadily fit himself into the Major Crimes Unit like a missing ingredient in a complex recipe - unnoticed until the item was added to spice up the mix.  
  
"Nothing." Tony forced himself to grin. He looked from one person to another and realized they did not believe him. "My grandmother, back in the old country, said you could always tell those who were touched by the fey - they have silver tracing through their eyes from seeing through the veil between worlds. A lot of the older generation in Ireland still believe in the fey."  
  
AJ blinked at his almost embarrassed grimace. Brian rested his hand on her back, fighting to keep from laughing aloud at the calm, accepting tone Tony used. Beside him, he heard Blair choke on his own response. Only Jim didn't react.  
  
"Do you believe in the fey?" AJ asked quietly.  
  
"I've seen too much not to believe," Tony replied quietly, his shoulders stiffening as if expecting a blow in response.  
  
"I knew I was going to like the Irishman," AJ smiled, her first real smile since Tony's arrival. She turned around and went on tiptoe to brush a quick kiss on Rafe's lips. Then she reached down, grabbed her camera bag and coat, and headed for the door. "So, are you ready to head to my class? We really should be heading that way. It's a beautiful walk and I don't like being late."  
  
Tony glanced at Brian, "What was that about, boyo?"  
  
"You're approved." Rafe grinned at the confused expression on the ex- undercover cop's face and shrugged. "She told us this morning she was going to like the man with the Irish accent. Call me if she gets to be too much to handle."  
  
"She knew she was going to like me?" Tony looked over at Ellison and accepted the senior detective's nod. "She is fey, then?"  
  
"Come on, we'll be late," AJ called from the door.  
  
Tony turned on his heel and headed for the door, ignoring the smothered laughter coming from Sandburg.  
  
"What's so funny, Chief?" Jim asked as the door shut behind the two.  
  
"The look on Tony's face when he realized not only were we not laughing at him, but that AJ probably is what his grandmother warned him about." Blair was still chuckling. "H has been razzing him for months about his Irish superstitions and we just look at each other and shrug. Better yet, AJ 'knew' about him before he arrived. Oh, I wish I were going to be with them today. I want to hear their conversation."  
  
"No you don't," Brian replied. "She's going to ignore every single question he throws at her."  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"I know how her mind works, Blair." The young detective carried their mugs to the kitchen and set them in the sink. When he returned, he shrugged at the unspoken question. "She implied she is fey or psychic or whatever you want to call it. She won't admit it to him. It was all she could do to admit it to us."  
  
"He's right." Jim grinned evilly. "She is going to drive him nuts by avoiding the subject and twisting the conversation away from it. And Tony is going to back down rather than be impolite to her. So he'll quietly stew and then he'll ask us."  
  
Brian picked up the thought, "We, of course, will avoid the subject, deftly change subjects, answer questions with questions, etc."  
  
Blair just shook his head, admitting defeat. He knew they could not say anything about AJ's dreams to the rest of the crew. It felt odd, keeping another secret from Major Crimes. Not even Simon knew about this. Only the three of them knew. For a moment he wondered if it was right or fair to keep it a secret but then he thought about what could happen. The FBI was already looking for her, albeit under a different name and a different persona. This would only make them find her faster. Still thinking about the whole situation, he followed the two detectives out the door.  
  
  
  
Rainier University Lecture Hall B, 9:00 A.M.  
  
AJ moved to the front of the hall as her escort settled himself against a wall. She ignored the curious eyes of her photography students. She was not going to explain the plainclothes detective's presence. To do that would expose her students to the cult and possibly entice them into hunting for things beyond their ability to handle. Right now they were safely unaware of the cult's existence and by virtue of being her students they were safe. By tradition, the cult was not allowed to touch the students of the sagrado chosen for sacrifice. After all, the teaching had to be passed down from one generation to the next. Instead of satisfying their curiosity, she was going to discuss field ethics. But first -  
  
"Good morning, everyone." She paused in front of the blackboard, looking at the pictograph on it. "This is a pretty good representation of the words on the entrance to the exhibit hall. There's a slight error, but not too bad. So, which of you wants me to follow the straight path to the doorway?"  
  
Chuckles broke out and AJ smiled. "Nobody? Okay, how about a pop quiz then? You are doing a walk through of Cascade. You take a bunch of photos and as you do so, a crime is committed. What do you do? You have ten minutes, please be comprehensive."  
  
As her students began writing, she studied the words on the chalkboard, trying to figure out why they seemed out of place. Fidgeting, she picked up the chalk and began rewriting the words - in another dialect. They still didn't seem correct. She translated the phrase into hieroglyphs. Nope. She wrote it in another language - this one far older than the others. That was it. It fit. She stepped back to survey her handiwork and the hair on the back of her neck rose as she recognized it for what it was - a message from the cult.  
  
"That looks like the stuff on the billboard on Cayman St by the wharf," Joshua commented quietly as he handed in his paper. AJ turned and noticed several students nodding their agreement.  
  
"Are you up to an impromptu excursion?" She asked, startling the class. "Does everyone have his or her camera? Do you have bus fare? We're going sight seeing."  
  
The class shifted restlessly.  
  
"What about the quiz?" One brave student asked from the back of the room.  
  
"I'll look over them and we'll discuss them next week. So, are you ready or not?" AJ turned her back on the class, grabbed her camera bag from the table, and strode toward the exit. Tony Baker was immediately at her side. "The route 47 bus will be at the stop in seven minutes. If you don't have your camera with you, you miss out on the trip."  
  
Behind them, the class quickly jumped to their feet and began following. In the first class she had warned them never to forget their cameras or enough change for bus fare to and from the university. AJ had known there would be times when she needed to get out of the building, away from the congestion that was the campus. If they kept up, fine. If not, that would be even better.  
  
"What's wrong?" Tony's slight Irish lilt sang over the sound of their footsteps and the chatter of the surprised students following them.  
  
"Nothing," she replied shortly. The walk across campus was not very long, but she was afraid the bus might be running ahead of schedule and did not want to wait for the next one. This was one of the times she wished she had a license; having her own means of transportation would mean faster transit times. But the hassle was not quite worth the effort of learning to drive. Not yet, anyway.  
  
  
  
Cayman Street and Fourth Avenue, twenty-seven minutes later.  
  
AJ stared at the billboard through the telephoto lens. Reflexively, she took several frames of it, panning the camera around to make sure she had the whole thing. When the film was finished, she quickly and efficiently changed rolls. The students who had stayed with her took their own pictures of the billboard. She nodded to them and turned her attention back to the archaic writing, working her way through it. Once she was certain she had read it correctly, she pulled out her cell phone.  
  
"Brian? Is Jim around? Bring him to Cayman and Fourth." AJ spoke into it, catching Tony's full attention as she did. "I found the instructions for getting your missing lady officer back."  
  
"What do you mean?" Brian's voice was strained and she could hear Jim ask him what was wrong. "Where's Tony? Where are you?"  
  
"We're at the corner of Cayman and Fourth, reading a billboard." AJ smiled at the muttered curse. "How long will it take for you to get here? I can help you find Señorita Welles if you hurry."  
  
"Ten minutes, Kitten," Jim's voice sounded loud over the cell phone. Behind him, she heard Brian explaining to the others in the bullpen and then she heard the sound of a mass exit. Hanging up, she turned her attention to the group with her and smiled.  
  
"Remember that scenario from earlier? It just came to life." AJ raised her voice over the sound of traffic. "Please pull your film, label it, and hand it over to the nice man at my side."  
  
"What?" "Huh?" "What's going on?" The protests were immediate and loud, but they obeyed.  
  
"Thank you." AJ scanned the street for a moment as Detective Baker placed the many rolls of film in his coat pockets. "I would suggest that anyone who does not wish to hang around for the arrival of the rest of the police department catch the next bus. Otherwise, you will most likely be detained to fill out the many forms, all in triplicate, the Cascade PD demands of those who are at, around, or simply close to, a crime scene."  
  
The sound of sirens danced at the edge of her hearing and she wondered briefly who would arrive first. Jim, she decided, hearing the squeal of tires that heralded the turn onto Fourth Ave. A slightly softer squeal, accompanied by Henri Brown's unhappy murmur, indicated Brian coming a close second.  
  
"Miss AJ?" The Irishman's lilt brought her attention back to the group. "What does the sign say?"  
  
"It says Señorita Welles is in the middle of the labyrinth and to save her we must pass the trial." AJ looked up at the billboard. "It says that at dusk, she dies."  
  
"Where's the labyrinth?"  
  
AJ looked at him and shook her head. She knew he would only get hurt if she reminded him of the words on her blackboard this morning. "Follow the straight path to the doorway," the words had read. She looked across the street, down the arrow-straight path directly across from the sign. Even the name of the now defunct company fit the pattern.  
  
She instinctively understood the meaning behind the messages. The cult wanted to test her and what better way to test her than by using one of their own ancient legends? Just as Theseus risked his life to save the sacrificial youths, the cult wanted her to risk her life to save Cassie Welles. She stared at the building across the way, her eyes distant as she though about the legend of the minotaur. She wondered how many people had died in this labyrinth. According to legend, in the one on Minos, every year seven young men and seven young women had been sacrificed to the minotaur before Theseus had killed the beast.  
  
Trireme Transport was stenciled in fading red letters on the side of the building with a stylized black-sailed ship as its symbol. The beautifully stylized trireme, three pairs of oars aloft as it pulled into harbor, was her clue to the entrance of the labyrinth. The labyrinth of the Minotaur, a trireme with a black sail, an ancient legend of ritual sacrifice, and a missing woman, all of them interrelated and all of them ominous when studied and compared to what she knew. It all fit, especially with the fire tinged dreams of the previous night.  
  
**  
  
Jim fought the truck as it skidded around a corner, his eyes locking on the group of young people farther down the road. As he watched, AJ, quickly followed by Tony Baker, darted across the street and into the parking area of a deserted industrial building. He bit off a curse as he realized she was heading for the door to the leftmost business, Trireme Transport. Later he was going to have a discussion with her about obeying orders.  
  
As he slammed the truck into park, he noticed that the stubborn woman had stopped to stare in through a window. He saw Tony grab her arm and try to lead her away from the building. Jim shook his head as he jumped from the truck. She did not look happy about that. Rafe and Brown flanked him, the three detectives jogging over to join the photojournalist and her escort.  
  
"Kyrie Eleason!" Jim roared, ignoring the way it made the uniformed officers sealing off the area jump.  
  
"See that billboard?" AJ grinned at him and pointed across the street. The detectives turned their attention to the odd sign. It was a picture of a wall covered with boxy symbols and a man wearing a colorful mask, advertising the dates of the coming exhibit at the museum. "That says your missing friend is in the labyrinth. According to legend, the trip to the labyrinth was made in a black-sailed trireme. That means she's in here."  
  
Jim looked over the building skeptically. The storefronts were attached to a long, low building. It was more like a warehouse than a store. He tried to listen past the walls, but all he could hear was the canned music coming from the front office of Trireme Transportation. He shook his head at the pointed glance AJ gave him. She shrugged; obviously she had tried the same action earlier  
  
"What did you think you were doing?" Jim growled and stepped closer to her. He caught himself fighting a grin as Brian automatically placed his hand on AJ's back. He caught Henri Brown's amused expression at the way she immediately curled closer to the young detective, trying to step away from the glare Jim was sending her way. "I thought I told you to wait for us."  
  
"I did." There was absolutely no guile in her voice or face; she did not seem to understand his reaction. She pointed into the reception room. Jim focused his sight through the glass and saw the huge mural. A very detailed trireme was skirting a cliff, fighting its way through rough seas. One entire side of the mural was covered. "I was trying to read the next message."  
  
"It's a possible crime scene. You have to stay out here with Tony and Brian," Jim explained impatiently.  
  
She grimaced and shook her head. "You can't read this stuff, I can. How long until Blair arrives?"  
  
The sentinel looked at the young woman and the two detectives flanking her. Behind them he could see the reflected image of the parking lot in the plate glass window. Police cars lined the road as officers began barricading the area, their faces grim. Everyone knew what they were up against. They weren't even certain Welles was still alive. He bowed his head and answered, "Twenty, maybe thirty minutes."  
  
"I don't like Señorita Welles, but I will not be the cause of her death." AJ gestured at the reception area. "They want us to go inside, to pass the test, and see if we can, or will, save her."  
  
"What do you mean?" Brian asked quietly.  
  
"The legend of the Minotaur is that a hero faced the creature, defeated the maze, and rescued the seven sacrificial youths. I think they want that to be reenacted."  
  
"And if we don't do it?" Henri asked softly.  
  
AJ looked up and stared at the sentinel, her eyes haunted. "How do you think a Minotaur would kill? The legend says he was half-man, half bull, his hands and feet cloven like the beast. It tore them to pieces and ate them - alive."  
  
"Good God." Tony Baker's quiet exclamation was answer enough for all of them.  
  
"You can read the directions?" Jim asked cautiously. He really did not want her going inside this place. It was making him edgy, and he still had not even gone inside the building.  
  
AJ shrugged, her eyes calm. Too calm. "I can get you to the center of the maze."  
  
"Is that where Cassie is?" Jim tried to listen past the walls. A faint sound caught his attention and set his nerves even more on edge.  
  
"Yes." She looked at ground, not at the detectives surrounding her. "If the cult is following tradition, your friend is in the center of the labyrinth. I can get you past the traps."  
  
"Captain?" Jim deferred to Simon, who had just arrived. He shot AJ a glance, but she missed it as she turned around and began studying the symbols through the glass. He quickly explained the situation.  
  
"I don't like sending a civilian inside," Simon Banks growled. He looked from one detective to another. None of them liked Cassie, but none of them wanted her dead either. "How long until Sandburg gets here?"  
  
"At least twenty minutes, sir." Jim replied, watching as AJ shrugged out of her backpack and parka. The photojournalist knelt and quickly striped off her camera rig, thrusting it into a case and then dropping the case into the open pack. He frowned as he saw her remove a flat case and strap it to her waist.  
  
"Señor Capítan?" The young woman's voice was soft as she turned her attention back to the group of detectives. "There isn't enough time to wait for Blair. If you want her alive, we need to go now. If we wait, the only one who will be needed is Dr. Wolfe."  
  
"I want all of you wearing flack jackets!" Simon growled at her before turning his attention to his detectives. "Rafe, Brown, Conner, Baker, you're with Ellison and his sister. Grayson, get me a set of tac-coms." He pointed to a pair of uniformed officers. "Set up a barricade to keep those civilians out of the way. And someone, go find Sandburg! We're going to need him here."  
  
The police officers scattered to do the big captain's bidding. Jim caught the flack jacket one of the police women tossed him and quickly helped Brian strap it on AJ.  
  
"I don't like this," Henri muttered, putting on his own flack jacket.  
  
"Neither do I," Jim responded, tightening a Velcro strap on his vest. He grinned watching Brian attach a com unit to AJ's ear and try to tuck the bulk of the unit into the vest without letting his hands become 'inappropriate'. The sentinel did not like the fact that the cult was leading them around by the nose. A sudden noise made him stiffen and AJ growled under her breath.  
  
He turned around and stared through the window. A wavering image appeared on a large TV set in the reception area. A man appeared, wearing a bright golden mask to obscure his face, his voice distorted electronically. Jim frowned at the gold-edged, white robe the man wore. It looked like something out of a historical movie.  
  
"What does it say?" He asked, his eyes on the image.  
  
AJ stepped closer to him and peered at the glass. "The Gate to the Labyrinth is open. If you would enter, it must be now. Take only the true number of followers, or you will never make the center of the maze. Follow the true course without failing and make no false turns or all will be sacrificed."  
  
"What is the true number of followers?" Brian asked.  
  
"Four."  
  
"I thought there were seven." Tony frowned.  
  
"Seven sacrificial victims of each sex. There were four true followers, Theseus, his two best friends who disguised themselves to free the women, and Ariadne." AJ looked at the detective with a reluctant smile. "Through trickery and guile they beat the labyrinth."  
  
"So if we use trickery and guile?" He asked.  
  
"We die." She stepped to the door. "If we break the rules, we are killed and so is the sacrifice. They will forcibly open all the sections of the labyrinth to whatever creature they have let loose."  
  
"You've done this before." Jim found himself saying. Something about the calm way she was describing the whole thing set off alarms in his head. She knew too much about it.  
  
"No. I was taught about it. It is not always used, only when the cult thinks their chosen one is not truly dedicated." She swallowed nervously. "This is a way of winnowing out the unworthy."  
  
"Conner, Baker," Jim growled unhappily. "You stay here. Keep an eye on Sandburg for me. He is not going like this."  
  
With that the sentinel strode for the door, hearing the others follow him. As he entered the reception room, the scene on the TV screen changed and the electronic voice began speaking again. AJ translated the words, her voice echoing through their communication units.  
  
//The Gate to the Labyrinth is open. You must enter now or forfeit the blasphemer. // The words rumbled through the TV's speakers and Jim turned his attention to the man on the monitor. Cassie Welles could be seen, tied to an altar, her eyes wide as she stared at something they could not see. // The Minotaur will be released into the maze when the Gate closes. //  
  
Brian stepped to AJ's side. "Do you know the maze? I remember hearing about the labyrinth in grade school. No one ever made it through the maze until Theseus used a ball of string to get back."  
  
"I know the maze," AJ replied and stepped through the doorway. Jim motioned the other detectives to pace her, both with their weapons out and their attention flickering around the empty reception area. He stepped to the side and watched as she stepped up to the painted gate on the far wall. With a quick glance at Jim, she placed both her hands on the center of the gate and pushed.  
  
The wall shuddered and began moving to the side on an oiled track. Behind them the door to the building swung shut on Simon's frustrated yell. Jim stepped between AJ and the open gateway. He scanned it, seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the darkness. As soon as the last of them stepped through the gate, it slid closed. Soundproofed walls kept out the sound of police officers and their radios, the rapidly gathering crowd on the street, and the noise of the steadily arriving media.  
  
"Ellison?" The scratchy sound at his ear reminded Jim of the radio he had been given.  
  
"We're okay, Simon. We've entered the maze," he reported. "Okay, Kitten. This box is just big enough for us. There are three doors. What now?"  
  
"Kyrie?" Brian's voice echoed in the dark, gloomy hall.  
  
"Left. Jim, where are you?"  
  
"I've got point." The sentinel voiced his placement quietly. A faint light came from behind him as Henri Brown flicked on a penlight.  
  
In front of them was a door. Jim opened it, struggling a bit with the heavy metal before it opened. A metal lined vestibule met their eyes. At one end was a steel walled cage, the heavy bars set ominously close. As one, the group approached the cage. The bars were set close enough that none of them could slide an arm between them. Inside the cage were a comfortable looking chair, a monitor and huge lever.  
  
"We need to leave someone here - to hold the gateway." AJ ignored the murmured shock around her. "There are two gateways, one at the entrance to the labyrinth and one at the central core. At each gate there should be a cage with a lock on the inside. It is to protect the guard from the Minotaur. If we do not secure each gateway, we cannot get past the maze."  
  
"How do you know that?" Henri Brown's voice was soft, angry.  
  
"I was trained to do this. I can walk to the center and die with your friend." She forced herself to keep her voice calm, unemotional. "Or I can risk my life and that of others to circumnavigate the maze, deactivate it, kill the thing the cult is using as a Minotaur, and try to rescue her. Which do you prefer?"  
  
There was no reply. Dimly she saw the big man shake his head ruefully as he stepped over to the heavy cage door. Without saying a word he stepped inside and shut the door. The loud clang of the metal lock pins falling into place was his only answer. A moment later, he pulled the lever. Immediately the door on the other side of the vestibule opened into a faintly lit corridor.  
  
Ellison stepped into the corridor, letting his senses dial up. The faint musty scent of an animal made him frown thoughtfully. He looked down to see faint marks in the dust on the concrete floor. The two-toed marks were ominously big. "They had pigs in here."  
  
"Pigs?" AJ knelt next to him, her fingers moving to the marks. "That's a pig? It's huge."  
  
"Razorback or a wild boar?" Brian asked, stepping closer to them.  
  
"Maybe." Jim grimaced, not liking the information he had at hand. He let his eyesight extend down the corridor. "Left or right at the 'T'?"  
  
"Stop at the 'T'," AJ replied.  
  
Jim headed for the end of the corridor, unhappy at the instruction. The oddly tinted walls bothered him with their tight, close proximity. The strange symbols drawn, carved, and then painted into the walls made him uneasy - they reminded him of exactly how much he did not know about the situation. The faint sound of air running through unseen vents and the old scent of the animals that had once run the maze did not help; they only made it harder for the sentinel to focus beyond his current location. He came to the 'T' and stopped.  
  
"Simon? Where's Jim?" Sandburg's voice was tinny as it came over the com unit. Jim winced, knowing what was coming.  
  
"He's inside, Sandburg," Simon's voice was calm as he tried placating the anthropologist.  
  
Jim glanced over at AJ when he heard her chuckle. The photojournalist was grinning at Sandburg's outraged reaction to Simon's words while she carefully read the information written on the wall.  
  
"Hey, Blair?' AJ spoke into the microphone, her hand tracing a word without touching the wall. "Do you know Linear B?"  
  
"Huh?" The anthropologist paused mid-rant, turning his attention to the question. He had not expected any questions about the Minoan writing system. "Some. I'm not an expert."  
  
"Do you know enough to read me the last two words from the billboard?"  
  
There was a brief silence and the sentinel could hear his guide turn around to stare at the billboard. Then the young man began slowly reading the words.  
  
"Thanks," AJ replied once he was done and placed her hand firmly on an unfinished section of the wall. The raised tile slowly receded and a lever appeared. She pulled it firmly. "Trap's disarmed. Go left again."  
  
The sentinel did not even glance back at her before following the directions. He heard the low rumbling growl of the machinery activated by her actions and trusted that she had made the correct adjustments to their path. If she was wrong, there would be very little warning before the traps sprang.  
  
  
  
***Ninety minutes later***  
  
The floor to this section of the labyrinth tilted under the sentinel's feet. He paused and knelt cautiously examining the join of the floor and the wall. Behind him AJ and Brian came to a stop. He glanced at them, gauging their stamina. If they had gone in a straight line, Ellison doubted they would have covered more than a few hundred meters. With all the twists and turns of the labyrinth, though, they had covered over a mile of pathways and rooms. He wondered how much longer this was going to continue.  
  
"Ellison?" Jim's name crackled through the radio eerily. He frowned and tapped his earpiece. Behind him, he heard Brian doing the same thing. "An- ng? Jim? F--antth" The line broke up completely.  
  
"We're heading underground." AJ whispered pulling the radio from her ear and letting it rest on the cord around her neck.  
  
He nodded and let his hearing reach for Henri. The other detective was trying to reassure Simon. He switched his radio's frequency, fine-tuning it as much as possible with the tiny transceiver.  
  
"I would have heard something, sir." Henri Brown replied to the question Jim had missed.  
  
"Henri?" Jim spoke, hoping the other detective received his radio transmission. "Can you still receive us?"  
  
"I got you, Jim. Simon says the Fed's just arrived and they are not happy we're in here."  
  
"Great. Can he keep them out?" Jim turned his attention to AJ, knowing she was listening to the conversation.  
  
"No. Devereaux is raising a stink about procedure. Sounds like they'll be forcing the door soon," Henri reported softly.  
  
The sudden flurry of curses that spilled from AJ's lips silenced all three detectives. Jim and Brian both turned their attention onto her in amazement.  
  
"Tell him to delay them as much as he can, please!" She growled, pushing her way past the sentinel. "We're going to have to run the maze."  
  
"Kyrie, what's wrong?" Brian placed a hand on her shoulder, but she only shrugged it off, her face worried.  
  
"The moment they force the door, all the traps will become live. All the secured ones, and the inactive ones, and our path will be worse than hard." She looked up at Brian, her hand reaching up to briefly touch his cheek. "Ready to run, querido?"  
  
"H, did you hear her?" Jim and Brian broke into a sprint on her heels.  
  
"I'll pass it on, man," Henri's voice broke into static and only Jim's heightened hearing allowed him to hear the man as he turned his attention to passing the information on to Simon.  
  
"Kyrie, can you do this?" Jim called out as he watched her dive into another hallway.  
  
"If I remember my maze, yes,"she grumbled, slamming her hand into an alcove and pulling lever. A door slid open before them. "This way is faster, but it is harder. You have to keep up."  
  
The musty scent of animals filled Jim's nostrils and he frowned. The passageway was narrow and dim. "What is this?"  
  
"The obstacle course," her voice was flat. "I hate the obstacle course."  
  
They ran and Jim could feel the spiraling path descend into the basement. The warm, fetid air seemed almost alive. The first obstacle gave no warning as it hurtled through the air at them.  
  
"Drop!" Jim roared, feeling the air pressure change with the rushing weight of an object.  
  
His heightened eyesight saw both AJ and Brian hit the floor. The two of them crawled forward until they were clear of the swinging object. Once he was clear, Jim looked at it. A solid looking bronze bull's head swung on an oiled chain, the horns sharpened into fine points at head level.  
  
"Nice," Brian commented softly as a lone light illuminated the stern features.  
  
"Stay against the left wall." AJ ignored them, carefully creeping forward, her lips moving as she silently paced off the wall.  
  
Jim obeyed silently, wondering what this particular trap was, but not asking. From the brown stain on the floor he knew he did not want to see it.  
  
A loud, shrill, metallic screech echoed through the passageway. Jim grabbed his ears as the sound reverberated and echoed around them. As he fell, he felt Brian slam into him, shoving him against the wall. The floors shuddered under the weight of the sound, sharing their agony with him.  
  
"What the H*** was that?" Brian yelled over the echoes. Jim's eyes were watering with pain as he rapidly slammed his dials down to near zero. It took him a moment to focus on the sight of his two companions.  
  
Brian was pinned to the floor, a spear thrust through his upper thigh. Beside him, AJ was rapidly tearing her shirtsleeves into bandages, eyeing the spear angrily. Before Brian could say anything else, she motioned Jim to hold the younger detective down. With a fast, clean move, she removed the leaf pointed spear and placed the bandages on the wound.  
  
"How many more traps?" Brian whispered through thin, taut lips.  
  
"Two. But they won't be active now." The cold tone of AJ's voice warned them both. "The main trap was sprung. The minotaur is loose."  
  
"There is no such thing as a Minotaur, Kitten," Jim replied tersely as he helped her secure the bandage on Brian's wound.  
  
"They let loose the boars?" Brian asked, going even paler than before.  
  
AJ nodded. "We have to move fast. They will smell the blood and come for us."  
  
Jim had heard the stories of wild pigs attacking humans and they had always bothered him. Feral pigs were not too common in the US, but in other countries he had read about the damage a regular sized pig could do. From the size of the tracks in the upper hallways, these animals were huge. And if they were wild boars or razorbacks, they would know how to use their tusks to fight.  
  
He grabbed Brian's arm and pulled him into a fireman's carry. They needed to move fast and this, undignified though it might be, was the fastest way to get them out of the maze. "GO!" He yelled to AJ.  
  
Without saying a word, she spun, leaping to her feet and racing away, the spear held in a white knuckled grip.  
  
***  
  
The first warning Jim had of the animals was the squeal of angry hunger that came from behind him. AJ spun, her eyes wide as she peered down the hall. She shrank against the wall to allow the sentinel to pass, yelling for him to hurry.  
  
"Enqueri! Keep straight - there's a raised platform in the next room. High against the far wall is a niche. Safety." AJ's words were fast, as she settled herself into a corner and pulled open one of her many pockets. The thin metal tube she pulled from the pocket was unexpected.  
  
He smelled the pungent scent of the potion she had brewed the day before as he passed her. His eyes caught the hurried motions of her hands as she coated the spear with the thick black liquid.  
  
"Jim! We've got to help her," Brian's voice was harsh from the pressure of the sentinel's shoulder in his stomach.  
  
Jim spun around a corner and sighted the room. The dim light did not slow him down as he raced for the far wall. He ignored the mosaic floor with its depiction of bull dancers and the murals that covered the walls.  
  
"Get in!" He growled at Rafe, lifting the smaller man towards the niche carved high in the far wall. Brian ignored him. "D*****! She won't retreat unless she thinks you're safe. You can't keep up with us, so you've got to get in there."  
  
At that, the younger detective pulled himself into the niche. Settling himself, he pulled his weapon from his holster and readied himself for a siege.  
  
"Hidalga!" Jim yelled down the corridor.  
  
"Voy!" "I'm going!" She replied and he could hear her footsteps followed closely by the animals.  
  
"Go left!" Jim called as he heard her approach the room.  
  
Immediately upon entering the room, AJ dodged to her left, clinging to the wall. The two huge boars ran straight into the center of the room. As the sentinel and the detective opened fire, AJ struck at the animals' sides with the spear. Ponderously the two creatures fell to the ground.  
  
"You okay, kid?" Jim stared at the two beasts. They were massive, over 800 pounds of muscle each. He frowned as he replaced his clip. He had not expected them to fall quite so easily. Then he saw their labored breathing and saw the darts that covered their faces. They were already dead, but their bodies did not know it yet. If a single dart could kill a man, several dozen should take out a boar. He hoped.  
  
"Brian?" AJ skirted the boars and stood under the niche.  
  
"I'll live." He started to pull himself from the niche but she shook her head.  
  
"Better stay there. We're at the final gate." AJ smiled sadly. "You can't make it to center."  
  
"Kyrie, I can make it."  
  
She looked over at Jim. The big man frowned, noting the thin trail of blood that ran down the wall from the niche. AJ turned to see what was making him frown and gasped.  
  
Jim nearly laughed at the instantaneous response as AJ swarmed up the wall and leaned into the niche. Before Rafe could argue, she had him on his back and was rebandaging the wound. She then carefully checked him over until she found the one that had been missed earlier. The whole time, she whispered threats and warnings to the detective for not taking care of himself.  
  
Moments later, she pushed off the wall and landed beside the sentinel. "How bad?"  
  
"Not too good. He'll sleep for a little while, thirty minutes at most." The too calm expression told Jim he did not want to ask any more questions about Rafe's health. It also told him she was not about to explain what she had done to make Rafe sleep.  
  
"Will he be safe here?" The detective did not like leaving a wounded officer behind. The sentinel actively hated leaving a wounded friend in such an open area.  
  
The young woman glanced around the small room, her eyes skimming the bodies of the two boars, noting that they had finally stopped moving. She went to them and dipped her fingers in a pool of their blood before coming back to the wall. Her face was a mask as she carefully traced a series of symbols on the wall. "Yes."  
  
Not looking at Jim, she wiped her hand on her pants leg and headed for a barred door. "Your lady friend awaits, Enqueri."  
  
The sentinel ignored the comment and followed her through the doorway. He paused at the sight of the room before them.  
  
A narrow walkway hugged the four sides of the chamber. Each wall was easily sixty feet long and in the center of each was a barred door. The center of the room was a vast pit and Jim could see Cassie Welles tied to an altar in the center of it.  
  
Steep stairs led down into the pit. The rough concrete walls were covered in paintings. Graceful dancers soared and vaulted over the backs of white bulls. Less graceful dancers adorned the creatures' horns; bright red spots marred the white paint, looking as if the walls themselves were bleeding. Jim let his hand rest against one of the murals, shivering as the damp cold soaked into his hand.  
  
"There is one last trap before we get to the center," AJ announced quietly, her boots sounding flat on the wooden landing. She glanced down into the pit, a trace of uncertainty on her face.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
She shrugged and began her descent. "Don't know. Never been in one before."  
  
"Great, the expert doesn't know," Jim grumbled, pulling his pistol from his holster again. Reflexively he checked the clip.  
  
"No one has ever gotten past the guardians before," she spoke so softly he almost missed it. "All the temple remains have this room destroyed so there are no clues."  
  
Jim did not say a word. The fact that AJ had deliberately misled him about the situation did not make him happy, but he was not surprised either. The idea that no one had ever gotten this far into one of the labyrinths was unnerving. He studied the walls, looking for traps. When he shook his head, AJ began descending the stairs. He followed slowly, uneasily.  
  
"Can you see anything?" AJ's whisper made him look at her.  
  
The young woman stood at the base of the stairs, her eyes flitting from place to place but there was a vaguely unfocused look to her eyes. The sentinel looked around the pit, noting how dim it was. He checked his dials and realized he had not even noticed changing the settings. A faint odor to the misty air clued him in to the difficulty.  
  
"Up!" He demanded, dragging AJ up the stairs.  
  
Halfway up the stairs, the mist and the scent were gone. He leaned the woman against the wall and studied the pit. The altar stood on a raised dais, completely clear of the mist. Rubbing his hand against his forearm, he thought over the trap.  
  
"Gas?" AJ breathed in deeply, her eyes a little clearer.  
  
"Yes. How will we get to her without getting knocked out by the mist?" Jim asked, trying to see another pathway. Unconsciously, his hand kept moving.  
  
AJ frowned at him and grabbed his hand. "Stop."  
  
Jim looked down at his arm, noticing the stinging pain of his skin. His arms were inflamed -- raised, red welts covering them. He began reaching for the dials, fighting hard to turn them down to manageable levels. "Just great."  
  
"So, you cannot go back into the mist." AJ stared at it thoughtfully. Then she grinned coldly. "Of course not. The final test is mine and mine alone. I usually have one of the guardians with me, so they prepared a trap for a guardian. How do I get past the mist. I go over or under it."  
  
Still rubbing his arms, Jim studied the pit more carefully. Finally, he spotted a thin line crossing the air. "Over it."  
  
She turned at his comment and followed him to the rope. It was a thin black cord attached to a metal plate in the wall of the pit. Jim frowned. They did not have the equipment for her to use the rope to descend into the pit itself. She could cross the pit but not enter it.  
  
"It won't work. We need more ropes or other equipment," the sentinel said grimly.  
  
"I promised to get her back for you, didn't I?" AJ replied, a crooked grin crossing her face.  
  
Before Jim could stop her, AJ grabbed the rope and began swinging across, hand over hand. The rope dipped low as she neared the middle until she dangled only about ten feet from the altar's surface. Jim cursed as she released her hands, dropping onto the dais. He was going to have a long talk with her when she got back to safety. He nearly growled when he noticed how gingerly she moved when trying to stand up.  
  
The minute AJ pulled herself upright and began cutting Cassie free, the intercom began crackling and roaring unintelligibly at them. AJ yelled a response, the knife in her hand waving at the ceiling and gleaming in the spotlight that illuminated the altar. The intercom responded and she turned away from it to cut the last rope holding the forensic technician to the stone block.  
  
Once Cassie was free, a fine rain of water mixed with something Jim did not recognize began pouring from vents in the ceiling. The mist retreated under the onslaught. The two women leaned on each other as they headed for the edge of the dais. As they began descending the stone stairs, Jim raced down the wooden steps, ignoring the faint burn of the mist and the oddly clammy feel of the falling water. Meeting them halfway across the pit, Jim picked up Cassie, noting the bruises that decorated her pale skin.  
  
A deep, hollow boom echoed through the chamber and Jim glanced at AJ. "What is it?"  
  
"The maze is collapsing." She headed for the stairs. "We have thirty minutes to get to the main floor."  
  
"It took us almost two hours to get here."  
  
She limped up the stairs, ignoring him. The sentinel followed, noting the limp and the shaky movements. Unfortunately, AJ was going to have to keep herself moving. He did not say a word as she leaned on the barred door, waiting for him to pass. Behind them, the water still fell, slowly filling the pit. The clang of the door slamming behind him, echoed in the small room.  
  
"Rafe?" Jim called.  
  
"Ellison?" The groggy voice was a godsend. The sentinel knew there was no way he would be able to carry the detective and the barely conscious woman. AJ slipped past him and quickly helped Brian down from the niche in the wall. She draped his arm over her shoulders and met Jim at the exit. "Is she alive?"  
  
"She's having trouble breathing. We've got to get her out of here." Jim replied tersely. He stepped through the door and paused. Cracked, broken pieces of plaster littered the floor. Even as he watched, metal walls retracted, leaving a clear path to the ramp leading up to the main floor.  
  
"Run," AJ whispered, nudging his back. "There is not much time left."  
  
A strange sound, hissing and whispering echoed through the walls and in that instant, Jim recognized it. The sprinklers on this level were arming themselves and preparing to release their funny smelling spray on them. He ran, knowing AJ and Rafe were at his heels. Moments later, the sprinklers went off, raining down that strange mixture of water and chemicals. Behind them, unseen, the water mixture crept over the edge of the pit and began edging towards the barred door.  
  
At the bottom of the ramp, AJ paused and slammed her hand into a sealed control box. The box flew open. Brian reached in and quickly pulled a lever. Jim turned in time to watch a heavy metal door slowly begin descending. He could hear the two whispering encouragement to each other as they forced themselves to keep moving. They met him at the top of the ramp and all three stared at what had been a complicated maze.  
  
Here, instead of all the walls disappearing, they had rearranged themselves, forming a straight corridor to the heavily barred door where they had left Henri Brown. Instead of seeing Brown, though, the flickering light of an acetylene torch flared and shimmered. Two men with torches were busy, trying to burn through the bars. Behind them stood a man with a fire extinguisher ready to cool the bars so the four behind him could rush through the opening as soon as possible once the torches were done.  
  
Jim glanced at AJ and saw her face pale as she too realized what was going to happen.  
  
"Stop!" They both yelled over their radios. Now that there were no metal lined walls between them, the reception was clear. The men with the torches paused, looking up as Henri repeated their words. The sprinklers above them spurted and stuttered.  
  
"Gas in the sprinklers!" Jim called as the group began racing for the only exit.  
  
With his enhanced sight, the sentinel saw the instant panic in the two torch men's faces. They reached for the cutoffs and switched them off just as the sprinklers turned on. The men backed away from the smoking metal bars as a third federal agent began spraying them with a fire extinguisher, hoping to keep the falling liquid from igniting.  
  
Henri darted out of the chair in the control booth, yelling for the others to get clear. The big detective moved rapidly as he grabbed the control bar. The bar would not move until someone on the maze side of the room entered the barred area and shut the door to the maze. Then they had to unlock the bars. Then, and only then, Henri could swing the heavy bars out of the way.  
  
Jim was the first into the barred area and he set his back to the control room, making sure he left enough room for the others to enter it. AJ and Brian, still leaning on each other, squeezed inside. The young woman turned around and threw the switch bringing down the barred grill. As it fell, they saw long metal claws sweep through the first ten feet of the hallway and Jim glanced at AJ seeing her watch them almost impassively. Only her eyes betrayed her surprise that this particular trap was still working.  
  
He turned to the control room and saw Henri's surprised expression. They had not known about that part of the security measure. He glanced into the entranceway and saw the marks on the walls. Grimly he gestured for the feds to move back before he unlocked the gate. Henri pulled the lever and a set of claws swept through the entrance, barely missing the feds. Then the bars swung clear.  
  
"Out. It's going to blow." Rafe called to Henri as AJ led him through the bars. Jim pushed his way into the feds, forcing them back through the narrow door.  
  
"This place is rigged to blow." Jim let his voice carry over the com unit. "Get everybody clear."  
  
Immediately, the federal agents and the police officers in the reception area turned and fled the building. Jim refused to relinquish his burden as he staggered out of the building. Suddenly his skin was burning and so were his lungs. Every mouthful of air seemed to sear as it went through his throat.  
  
He barely felt the hands grabbing him as he fell to his knees.  
  
"We need decontam now!" Someone was yelling, but the voice faded. "Get me a hose running!"  
  
"Let Cassie go," Blair's voice echoed in his head and Jim let go. He felt her body being removed from his arms. The world was a bright colored blur and he heard Blair's voice begging him to breathe.  
  
  
  
He felt ice-cold water being sprayed over him as someone stripped the flack jacket from him. A moment later, he realized he was naked under the spray. A strange plastic coated body was supporting him, holding him upright under the harsh water that was pouring over his skin. An oxygen mask clung to his face; occasionally it was lifted so the water could run down his cheeks. And he noticed that the burning in his skin was lessening. He opened his eyes.  
  
"Detective Ellison?" The voice came a paramedic he knew only too well. Worried brown eyes peered at him, the worry dissipating at his nod. "Do you know where you are?"  
  
Jim looked up at the sky above him and the hose dangling over the privacy wall of the emergency decontamination unit. He had heard that most of the fancier paramedic units in the city had them - with Cascade's record for disaster, the fire chief had been only too happy to order them - but he had never seen one before. "Cascade. The labyrinth was rigged. Burns."  
  
"Another fifteen minutes under the water and we'll be able to transport you." The voice was soothing but Jim could hear the steel underneath it. This man was not going to let Jim out from under the water. At least not until he was certain there was no more of the contaminate that had caused Jim to collapse.  
  
"What was in the sprinklers?"  
  
"We have no idea what you originally encountered. The second sprinkler system contained a type of napalm. If it had ignited, you and your friends would have died." The man was calm as he answered the sentinel's question. "The building is a deathtrap. The fire department is trying to find a way to safely get the stuff out."  
  
"Fire it," Jim growled. "Only way."  
  
The paramedic nodded. "They'll wait until we get you and your friends out of here."  
  
"Cassie?"  
  
"Alive. They're all alive."  
  
Jim nodded. They had survived the maze. Barely. He extended his hearing, finding and locking onto Blair's tirade to Simon. His guide did not appreciate the fact that he was not allowed into the tiny tent. He would apologize to Blair later, but he was glad the kid was not here. The icy water would have him sick in minutes. And something told the sentinel that he was going to need his guide at the top of his form very soon. 


End file.
